Tale of Two Death Notes
by wordbombs
Summary: The Death Note was destined to bring them together, the rest was up to them. AU
1. Of Annoyance

Disclaimer- If I owned DN, it...it would have porn. Just straight fucking porn. Since it's not, I don't own it.

_Light's hand had paused over the Death Note. At the moment of the pause, two futures had expanded in front of him, contingent on his choice. To touch- or not to touch? To die a forsaken God, or to be loved as a human? The two swelled out on the edges of Light's unconsciousness and battled for dominance as his hand slowly inched forward. _

_Light's hand descended down on the note, felt the soft irregular fabric under his fingers, slightly damp on the back from the grass' dew. As he casually flipped it open to peruse, a future slipped away from him and the road to Godhood loomed ahead. _

Light's hand didn't pause as it descended down upon the Death Note. His gloved fingers quickly flipped it open, eyes running down the list of names he had already memorized and mouth opening to issue a command to his owl-eyed subordinate almost without thought.

"Tzuki, order another round of chemical analysis on the ink signature. I want to know what the hell it is about this paper that takes an ordinary water-based ink and modifies its chemical structure to be completely the same as whatever the primary structure is made out of." The silent_ And I want to know now!_ was left unsaid, but was felt echoing in the room as the slightly-older man nodded quickly and grabbed Light's test page- filled with names from Uzumaki Naruto to Don Quixote- to be shipped once again to testing. Light sighed and rubbed his temples, before rolling his neck to crack out the creaks that had recently taken up residence in his neck when they weren't summer vacationing in his lower back. It was a good thing his job with the National Research of Police Science was one of the most well paying- otherwise he'd go broke from his chiropractic appointments alone. He leaned back in his wooden chair, balancing on the two back feet, exactly how his mom had always chided him about, and quieted the humming buzz in his brain. The re-run of the chemical analysis would most likely lend no answers, but the ability of the Notebook to absorb and chemically modify a variety of substances was interesting and merited as much study that could be pulled from the Chemistry departments before they spooked and turned tail like the Biology departments had already done a month earlier. Plus, contemplating that one little mystery saved Light from having to contemplate the big mystery. The mystery that had landed the self-titled 'Death Note' on his desk as Head of the Physics Research department in the first place- _how_ the hell a notebook killed people just from a name and face. It was a frustrating question and Light was beginning to feel the strain of answering it. There were just so many unknown factors about the Notebook and he was getting no answers from the usual tests.

Light groaned and rested his head on his forearms, not even starting when his chair landed back properly and jostled him slightly. Why him?

Of course he knew why him. When the Notebook had shown up as the weapon in a small-but-large-enough string of murders that had conveniently placed a certain underling politician in prime candidacy for a place in the House of Councillors, he had been the first called to investigate the morbid death list in the seemingly innocuous Notebook. Mostly because he was the one that had pinned the guilty man in the first place, and had actually been on the scene when the Notebook was recovered, but his brilliance would have earned him the right to the Notebook eventually. And look where it had gotten him so far, Light thought ruefully. Six months behind in all his other research so he could penetrate what was the most incredible mystery the world had ever seen, but he couldn't even be happy about the challenge because the Notebook was winning. All he knew was that he was never helping his Dad's department again.

In the beginning, he had immediately dismissed the idea of handing the Notebook off to another one of the NRPS's research departments, despite the yells of the 4 different chemistry departments that this was much more suited to their labs. No, Light had argued back. There is clearly some form of deeper phenomenon going on them than mere chemical variances. The purported ability to control actions before death, the ability to decide the time and means of death…All of it pointed to the notebook working on some as of yet unknown dimension that treated space-time like a guitar string- able to be plucked at any point at any time on any frequency. This went a lot deeper the chemists' abilities and had seemed to be the perfect rival for an aloof theoretical physicist who only worked for the Japanese police department to appease his dad and to fill his resume before he applied for a position and tenure at To-Oh. But he was beginning to regret that dismissal more and more.

Of course, for a while it had been fun. The Notebook had seemed like an equal challenge for Light's mind. Logically riddling out the consequences of the rules, noting the unusual crystalline structure of the 'paper', all of it thrilling and revolutionary.

And ultimately completely pointless because Light was still nowhere closer to figuring out exactly how the damn thing worked. Every time, every single time they made a breakthrough it only unleashed a thousand more questions. The Notebook was a labyrinth of hidden doors and secret tunnels and Light was traveling through it blindly. He let another private groan escape his lips before standing up from his workspace. Coffee may not give him the divine inspiration he seemed to need to figure the thing out, but it would at least fight back the headache that was nipping at the edges of his skull.

Light strode down the florescent-lit hallway towards the break room, the clean white light overhead pushing out any shadows despite the fact that it was growing darker outside. He took another glance at the watch his father had gotten him for his birthday almost a decade ago and saw with relief that the workday was almost over. In fact, if he chose to be social when filling his body with fake adrenaline, he might not have to go back to that damn Notebook at all! Grinning, Light moved forward at a determinedly more leisurely pace, but now with genuine bounce to his step. It wasn't like him to relish the thought of leaving work early- or usually to enjoy any thoughts outside of work- but these days escaping his never ending circular thought flow was the only thing that could make Light smile. The Notebook was taking his toll, and he could feel it in his bones. He could also see it in the mirror. His hair needed a good trim, and he was beginning to pale.

He also knew everyone thought he was losing it to some degree. Of course, no one had said anything out loud yet. They held much more respect for him than to insinuate that one Notebook, even one with killing powers, had bested him at only 6 months. After all, he was Tokyo's pet genius. A few perfect entrance exam scores into To-Oh, a few national tennis tournaments won at the collegiate level along with an impeccable sense of dress had sky rocketed the young doctor to the top of every 'Most Eligible' list the world around and left a healthy amount of fear and admiration in even the most weathered of his colleagues. But no one had ever dealt with something on this level before and even though most of his co-workers didn't begin to understand the utter vastness of the mysteries the Notebook presented, they unfortunately seemed to understand that it was too much even for a man who completed his theoretical physics doctor's program in half the required time. And then completed another doctorate in Applied Chemical Engineering on the side as he took over as Physics Research Department head from the conveniently retiring ex-head.

Light allowed himself one scowl before pushing the thought away. No, maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was just beginning to fear that others could see the failure in him because _he _knew he was failing. Classical self-projection anxiety, right? Light flashed a brilliant smile at the next hunched over doctor walking in the opposite direction and saw the man straighten up from his stack of manila folders and smile sycophantically back. Yes, definitely self-projection then. The man still worshipped him. Well then, he just needed to change his thinking. After all, he was Light Yagami! Tokyo's resident genius! Nothing was too great a challenge, even a death-dealing Notebook. Right? Right.

Thinking positive thoughts lasted him up until he had finished pouring his coffee and treating it with a minimum of skim milk and the smallest dash of artificial sweetener. He mentally noted that he really should use real sugar instead of pumping even more chemicals into his system, but the thought was pushed away with the realization that with the amount of coffee he drank a day even a minimal intake of the calorie heavy sweetener would mean adding on around 300 calories a day to his diet. And that would demand another mile out of him during his runs, which he was too exhausted to do because he was so busy working day and night on this damn Notebook!

Light thought very spitefully at the Notebook for a long moment. It denied him peace of mind, and now it was denying him real sugar. He'd probably die from all the time and calorie saving bad habits he'd developed while putting in 70+ hour weeks to solve the powers of the Notebook. The irony of the situation was beautiful and Light toyed with it in his mind for a few moments, riddling out exactly what double laced entendres about his death being caused by Death he was going to leave on his tombstone. And he would die from a natural stress induced heart attack, while studying why a heart attack was the default death of the Notebook. Glorious.

Glancing down at his watch, Light realized he had another full 20 minutes left before he could think of skipping out and had to bite back another self-pitying groan. He reluctantly got up and slowly cleaned out his favorite mug while throwing curses at the empty break room in the back of his mind. As he slowly walked back, he let himself slip back into research mode slowly, running down the well worn path of physical and chemical properties about the Notebook that had yet to be tested. And then it hit him. The Notebook…the Notebook must act as a hologram! A 3-D representation of a greater dimensional force which would explain why its powers could be used on only a small piece without any disruption of potency! And weren't some of his colleagues of his from To-Oh working on a theory about the nature of the low-energy level space having holographic properties with some British and American scientists? If only he could be allowed to consult outside researchers…! But still, despite the sometimes crippling secrecy statue he was working under, this was a good train of thought. He needed to get Tzuki to perform a few new tests…Light's cell phone went off as he entered into a particularly fruitful line of thinking and he damned the thing to hell along with whoever the caller was as he flipped it open.

"Yagami here. It better be important." He heard his father's distinct soft cough come over the line, the one that politely and wordlessly suggested Light change his tone before continuing the conversation. "Sorry Dad, I was just in the middle of the best brainstorm I've had all week. If this is about detective consultation, you know I'm not free right now. Now, if it's about offering your hard working son a free meal of his mother's creation…" Light let the conversation trail off as his father remained silent. Usually the older Yagami would take over at that point, knowing Light had done his best at the small talk he hated so much, and get to the point of why he had called. What lingered over the airspace now was an awkward silence made up of one frustrated researcher and one detective trying to compose a difficult message into the most acceptable terms for his very demanding son.

"Light, we received a call today at the office that concerns your end." Light waited patiently, knowing his father's pauses were time to think, instead of time for Light to respond. "Well…It's just…somehow L has gotten a hold of the Death Note files. Light, he says he's coming down and he's bringing along associates. He was pretty insistent." To Light's credit, his grip on the phone only tightened dangerously for around 3 seconds. After that, he released the tension in his arm and composed his reply.

"Well that's…illegal. How did he even hear of the case? He has absolutely no jurisdiction here and no qualifications. If he insists on coming, I'll kick him out myself. And if he knows of the Death Note he should know better than to contact your branch of the NPA. The case has been closed on your end. This is under completely different jurisdiction and speaking as the Department Head of the case, I can safely say that L's brand of vigilante justice aimed at his own pleasure and done at his own discretion is not welcome here." Light took a moment to breath and felt new tension starting in between his shoulders and a return of the headache his coffee had chased off.

"Son, I'm aware of that. We told his people much the same, although perhaps in not so eloquent of terms, this morning. We were told he'd think about our request to stay away and thought we'd won. Then 15 minutes ago we received a fax saying he was to arrive in two days time and he expected to be welcomed appropriately." Light cursed softly under his breath for 5 seconds. It was very profane, and relieved some of the newly created tension his back would be bearing until his Tuesday appointment with Dr. Toyama. Oh dammit, Dr. Toyama was out next week. He'd have to make do with Dr. Suzuki. The man had cold hands. Ugh. Light's trials would never end, would they? Speaking of…

"So you've known about this since this morning, which would make it about…7 hours now? Why am I just hearing of this?" He heard a muttered voice other than Soichiro's, most likely Aizawa's by the resonance of it and realized he must have been put on speakerphone with the rest of the case's taskforce. Lovely. Light leaned up against the cold hallway wall and closed his eyes, grateful that the police's science buildings were always empty and quiet. He didn't need an audience if he started shouting and cursing into the phone.

"Honestly, we voted as a department that it would be best not to tell you until it were final. Seeing as you have access to a killing-people notebook and all…" Matsuda's voice came over the line, and Light could just picture the man standing there will his hand behind his head, jacket undone, tie askew, and the smallest hint of an unsaid apology coming through despite his joking tone.

"Got it. Cowardice runs rampant among Japan's finest, poor scientists left only with the question of where the frontline's balls went." He heard a nervous titter go up among the men, and shook his head. It was times like these that the immense foresight he had shown by going ahead and accepting the scholarship into his doctoral program instead of joining the force was proven unquestionably correct. He loved his father, and the taskforce he worked with- but really? Really?

"Son, we just didn't want to bother you. We know you've got your own troubles with the thing and you're right. L had no business here, technically, but maybe this could be a good thing? The man is a genius after all." Light's eyes narrowed as he contemplated his response.

"He is a genius detective, Father. And despite what you and your testes deficient-" Here he heard Matsuda whine out a low complaint- "team may think, that doesn't not entitle you to be a _physics_ genius. If it were Stephen Hawking knocking down our door, I might reconsider. But as it were I am dealing with an object that defies the fundamental laws of this universe with its mere existence, not to mention throws thousands of years of philosophy right the fuck out the door and you have the gall to suggest that some over-hyped letter is going to help the situation?" If ever Light had wanted to use the term 'pregnant pause', it would be now. The silence stretched over both ends and Light inwardly rebuked himself for letting his temper get the best of him. He knew that genius was something little understood and that the men on his father's team revered L as the best of their own. But still. It was a little insulting to think that after all the times he'd shown the same 'brilliant logic' as the anonymous hero (during his off hours at that), that they'd realize the difference between the two. Light was not sitting around behind some fancy gothic font type making demands and utilizing ridiculous resources to come to the same conclusion Light could do with 5 men and a good intuition. Light was out there on intellect's frontline- using his genius to unravel the very fabric of the universe. For crying out loud, Light had two doctorate degrees! At 27! Had L even _gone_ to college? And at least Light could show his face. L was probably some deformed midget. With bad breath.

"We didn't mean to insult your intelligence Light, you know we all think you're the best man to figure this whole crazy thing out. It's just…synergy you know! L could bring you synergy!" Matsuda chirped into the phone, and Light vaguely wondered if they'd taken a teamwork-building seminar recently to put the term into his vocabulary. Synergy, psh.

"Well, I thank you for the optimism, but I'm going to go ahead and put my lab on lockdown. Dad, I'm coming home for dinner, I don't feel like cooking or take out. That okay?" Light tried to keep the frustration to dull roar in his voice, and was pleased by how pleasant he sounded. See, he could stay phone ready without a voice scrambler. Another point to Light.

"That's fine Light, I'll tell your mother. And…we really are sorry about this." Light indulged himself with a small shake of his head before answering.

"I know Dad….guys. You've all been great over the years, and I've always felt like one of your own. I know you wouldn't let anyone near my department if it couldn't be helped. Still…If I see a single one of you fan boys stretching out for an autograph when the big 'L' gets here, I will never help you with another case again, and shall instead lend my skills to Forensics." There was a massive groan and some off-color jokes made at the expense of the long suffering Forensics department before Light finally said his goodbyes, and arranged a time to meet his dad at the main office. Finally able to shut his phone, Light noted without interest that he was now well over the time that he could leave. Flipping open his phone again, he quickly called Tzuki to let him know it would be a few more hours to start locking up the Notebook's research area as well as they could over the next two days- along with hiding all of their data and test results so far. Rolling his neck to a few more satisfying cracks, the auburn haired man set out once again down the deceptively light hallway this time with a purpose in his stride. And maybe he would even get the chance to write down his new theories on the nature of the Notebook. Oh joy. Truly, Light thought shaking his head as an ironic grin worked its way onto his face, his happiness knew no bounds.

_The jackass on TV would not beat Light. Of course, showing his face was a bold move- meant to inspire and impress. It would almost be admirable if it hadn't given Light the two things he needed to eliminate this threat. The fact that Light hadn't heard of L before didn't really matter. If he wanted to needlessly reveal the fact that a super detective lived behind the closed doors of international intelligence agencies all to make a point, then Kira would gladly strike him down for his arrogance. And as he wrote 'LIND L TAYLOR' in bold script across a page, slashing down the middle of the Death Note with his victory. And as he saw the man stop moving on screen, the road to Godhood stretched further before his eyes. L would not interfere with Light's work. Light's purpose. L would not get in his way. _

L would not get in his way, Light thought as he sipped his coffee, swirling it around quickly in his mouth to diffuse the heat before he swallowed. He'd scored particularly nice pack of dark Colombian beans from the Forensics department earlier yesterday when he accidentally let slip to the Head of Forensics exactly what his father's starting line-up was for the upcoming Forensics v. Detectives baseball game and he was enjoying his reward immensely as he strode down to his lab. After all, he may not actually blame his father's department for L's imminent arrival due later that day, but he was still pissed. And maybe a little passive-aggressive. But now that he had fine coffee to sate his anger, he was viewing the upcoming visit in a new, more positive light. After all, he had run his new theories on the properties of the Notebook by Tzuki who had immediately lit up and volunteered to do the grunt math work, which Light left him to. A little editing and proofreading through someone else's calculations was always preferable to doing them on his own, even if he could finish twice as fast as his older assistant. And he'd ordered a new line of tests to see exactly how quickly information could transmit from one piece of the Notebook to another, and the results were perplexing but leading to interesting conclusions. Yes, Light was fine on his end. And now in the perfect position to put that mysterious letter exactly in its place, whenever he chose to show up. Lab coat billowing softly around his ankles, he took another sip from the warm comfort in his hand as he flashed an endless array of security badges and passed through countless number locked doors.

Light ignored the little tug in the back of his mind that softly asked why he even felt the need put someone he didn't know in his place at all. Because, he snarled back indignantly after a moment, this department is mine. This case is mine. And I'll be dammed if some upperty super genius letter vigilante fuck is going to- oh God. This wasn't about his ego, right? Light paused mid step in self-contemplation. Usually he was above things like denying valid help because it offended his ego. He often entertained the theories of the Biology and Chemistry department heads, and had benefitted immensely from the tutelage when he had first taken over his department from Dr. Okinawa. He had listened to the overseers of both his doctoral theses with reverence. Light knew he had a bit of an inflated sense of self-importance, but had always been able to reign it in so as not to be detrimental to his own progress and the progress of his work. So why did the idea _L_ mucking around his research grate him so much?

It had to be because of the absolute mechanical nature in which the secret detective operated. The hidden identity, the overly-expensive laptop flickering with that pretentious scripted L, all of it bothered Light. Not to mention the sheer balls it took to drop into an investigation that had never called for him, had never asked for his help- the man had obviously hacked their files- and all around him people were tripping over themselves with glee. Yes, it was exactly the kind of show that Light despised and perhaps envied a small bit. Not that he didn't get his own due, but still. Everyone around him was acting as though L showing up, even uninvited, would solve things. His associate Watari would push that fucking laptop in and L would make a bold statement like, "Yes. It is clear to me now that God is behind this. I believe that solves everything, but intend to take the Notebook into my custody all the same. Good day gentlemen." And then there would be some cheering before eventually they all realized two months later that the man's answer had solved nothing. Disgusting.

Plus, come on. A detective? A _detective_? In Light's laboratory? He thought not. Quieting the rumblings of his own bruised ego with the comforting thought that jealous or not, L still didn't have the credentials to be running around Light's territory, Light strode finally passed through the last eye scan to enter into his own lab.

Where a blonde woman was sitting at his chair eating chocolate and casually flipping through Light's own personal case notes.

Wait, was it a woman? Light really couldn't be sure. The long hair and general tightness of the man's? Women's? leather apparel leaded to the conclusion that it was a girl, but then wouldn't she-him-it have breasts?

Contemplate its gender later, Light, find out what it's doing in your lab now. Nodding in slight agreement with the forward thought, Light opened his mouth to give a carefully worded inquiry into the actions of the…person.

"The fuck?" Ah, subtle yet direct. Light was really at his best this morning.

"Hey, finally, I've been looking for an intern all morning. I'd love a mug of whatever you're drinking and for you to fetch this…" he (definitely a he) paused and closed the folder in his hand to view the name on the front "Dr. Yagami. Now, shoo." He made a small hand gesture and turned back to Light's notes. Light could only stare. The fuck?

"I'm sorry, and you are…?" Oh, he was getting better. That one even sounded slightly snobby. Light congratulated himself before turning the intense power of his gaze on the man before him. He admitted he'd been taken by surprise and bested by the blonde intruder for a moment, but now whoever the hell this person was sitting in his chair and getting chocolate crumbs just everywhere was going down. And was then going to be beat up by security, while Light watched, laughed, and sipped his coffee.

"Not that it matters, _intern_, but I'm an associate of L's. Your boss is expecting us. Now, coffee. I'll even say please if it makes you feel better about it." The blond turned back to Light's notebook and began skimming down a list of equations.

"Not that it matters, Mr. Associate, but the last thing I'm going to be doing is getting you coffee. Get the fuck up out of my chair, and get the hell out of my office. I don't care who you work for, this is a highly restricted facility and you are most certainly not authorized to be here." Light snatched his folder from the man's slack grasp and put it back in his file cabinet, fully expecting the man to be at least standing and hopefully cowering by the door by the time he turned around. What he wasn't expecting was to see the man's brown eyes lit up as he nibbled harder on his chocolate bar, still determinedly in Light's seat.

"You're Light Yagami?_ Doctor_ Yagami? Oh man, this is going to be fun." He was staring at Light with a slight smirk that boded of slightly sinister things hiding behind it and his brown eyes met Light's amber one's without hesitation. "So. Much. Fun."

So much fun turned out to be a morning comprised of yelling at every worker and security guard in the building as to how the hell the blond man had slipped passed them all.

As for the blonde man himself, he had merely introduced himself as Mello and then followed along behind Light looking entirely too pleased with the situation. He had offered no answer as to how he'd gotten in, merely smiled and said that he had his ways. Infuriating. Eventually though, he grew bored with Light's rampage through the department and had insisted on going back to the Notebook.

"Absolutely not. I don't care who you work for and the fact that you invited yourself to my materials isn't working in your favor. Now, if you'll excuse me,_ I_ have work to get done." Light turned on his heel, making the motion with the precision of an army drill sergeant and turned to go back down the hallway to his lab. To his annoyance, but not to his surprise, Mello followed him, pulling out another chocolate bar from a hidden pocket on his tight leather pants and beginning to lovingly unwrap it. Light stopped in his walk and turned back around to face the man.

"Alright, obviously you do not understand this. Under the authority of the Japanese federal police system, I can have you arrested for being here and for continuing to pester me. So far I have shown mercy because of your employer's status among my father's department…" Light trailed off as Mello started laughing. Laughing! He was standing there, laughing at Light, a look of sinful glee lighting up his too-feminine features with a dash of cavalier cruelty that worried Light enough to want to take a small step back. Not that he did, but the fact that the man made him want to unnerved Light. He was not one to be intimidated, especially in his own territory.

"No, you don't understand, my good doctor." He smiled at the last word, the term doctor seemed to amuse him for some reason. "L is L. Ultimately, we have the authority to override you from your own government, and any other nation from whom we wish to solicit for back up. If I wanted to take your precious Notebook right now and moonwalk out of here, I could." He pushed in close to Light, chocolate-flavored breath tickling Light's ear and overriding his sense of smell as the man pressed uncomfortably close to him. "We want to place nice Doctor. You seem like a cute kid with a good head on your shoulders. Let's just work together, okay? Who knows…we could become friends." He gave Light's shoulder a gentle squeeze and Light shuddered softly. Ugh. Foreigners.

"Fine. You want the Notebook so badly? Fine. See if I care, you bunch of fuckwads won't get anywhere." Light pulled away and turned snappishly to enter in the entrance code to his lab with slightly shaking fingers.

How dare they. How dare this blond haired…had he called Light a kid? There was no way this arrogant man child covered in enough cow skin to pitch a teepee was older than Light and here he was condescending to Light on his own project. Fine, fine let them have the Notebook. Let them try to figure out how the fucking thing worked. They'd stumble on all the same questions Light had without even the proper background to begin working them out. Fuck them. It was their problem now. Light could pass on the stupid thing with no whatsoever. Hell, now he could have a life again. Go to the gym. Eat something other than take out. Get a haircut. Light surreptitiously peered into the mirrored door blocking their access to his lab as the code he'd entered processed. Definitely getting a haircut first…

Light led the blond man down into his lab, and went straight to the hidden panel behind one of the shiny metal panes on the wall. Typing in his personal pass code quickly, he opened up the small safe and donned gloves that were hanging inside before pulling out the Notebook and casually tossing it down onto his pristine desk.

"There. Here are the handling gloves. Good luck." Mello looked at Light with amusement, his mouth twisting around his chocolate bar into a mockery of a grin.

"This really chaps your ass, doesn't it? Why? Most police departments are happy for our help." Light's mouth tightened as he observed the obnoxious man through slightly narrowed eyes.

"Why? Really? Should I start with the fact that you obviously hacked our files to find out about the Death Note in the first place? Or the fact that your 'L' has no qualifications here? I don't care if the man is a genius detective, this is physics. This is science. This is using intellect to dissect one of the greatest mysteries mankind has ever stumbled upon instead of circle jerking with a bunch of idiot policemen and if you think I am happy to just let him run rampant over six months of my hard work, you are wrong." Light breathed out hard through his nose. He hadn't meant to let lose like that, usually his composure was better than this. But come on! Six months of hard work. Six months of sleepless nights. Six months of feeling like he was constantly being watched by the damn Notebook, and six months of being beaten down and now L was just going to come in and save the day? No! Besides, it wasn't like the mysterious vigilante letter fuck could save the day anyway. He was just wasting Light's time. More importantly, he was giving Light false hope. Despite the fact that Light desperately wanted to beat the Notebook on his own, he was being beaten slowly and surely by the mysterious artifact. And even though he knew 'L' couldn't help him, he wanted the man to be able to. And simultaneously didn't want him to be able to. It was a lot of emotion for a man used to being able to deal with his own problems and needing to feel capable to feed his own ego.

Mello was just chuckling and shaking his head at Light.

"Actually, we didn't hack your files. It was brought to us by Interpol, and we were invited here at the discretion of your Chief of Police- although you seem to not have gotten the message." Light stared. The fuck?

"Apparently one of your boys brought it up at a private 'conference' when he and the American representative got a little wasted and started getting into it. You know, the usual back and forth", Mello leaned casually against Light's desk and began slipping on the gloves, "Blah blah, World War II, blah blah, we have better technology, blah blah, we're the epitome of Western democracy and don't have vestigial monarchies, blah blah, we have a notebook that could kill you, etc. So you see, when that was brought up it was only a matter of time before L was called in to verify the claim and neutralize any threats. This thing here could be a pretty terrible weapon if we allowed to go unchecked, don't you think?" He finished sliding the gloves on with a snap. "And it wasn't exactly appreciated that Japan had kept this all to themselves, even in the interest of public peace of mind. At the minimum, it should have been brought up before the UN immediately after it was discovered. Yup, Japan is in quite the international shit hole over this _Doctor_ and you're right in the middle of it. So yah, really it's you who has no qualifications to be deciding what to do with a weapon of this potential. After all, you're just a _physicist_." He casually sank down into Light's chair, propping up his booted feet on Light's desk and began flipping through the Notebook.

Light stared.

The. Fuck.

Author's Note: Hey y'all! First time author here, so feed my needy needy ego and review. Other than that, chapter 2 is well under way. I'm not sure when it'll be up, but expect it within the week. I'm enjoying this a lot, hopefully you guys do too. Also, I JUST received a betta fish named Misa Misa from a misguided and drunken White Elephant party, so all I'll say on Ch. 2's content is to look forward to a little shout out in honor of my fish. Speaking of beta's, I do have an informal one through a friend that I know IRL, but if anyone just desperately wants to edit my work because my atrocious grammar makes them cry, or they think my physics sucks and they just want to destroy me with editing, whatever. Send me a message, and if I like your vibe, you are welcome to get in on this. Thanks for reading my word bombs!


	2. Of Offers

Disclaimer- If I owned Death Note, L wouldn't have washed Light's feet. He would have pushed him down on the stairs and fucked a bitch. No lube but spit and rain drops.

_L's thumb pressed against his mouth as he watched Light Yagami on the screen before him. The boy was not what he had been expecting at all. He moved with the grace and perfection of an automaton, handling school, prep school and family with the same easy indifference. He had absolutely no suspicious activity except for those magazines, and L was almost certain that was an act. The only thing that seemed off was sometimes, for a few brief seconds, his eyes would meet L's through the cameras. This always happened later at night, after Yagami Sr. had left for the day and L was left to observe the young man alone. Amber eyes would flick up and almost imperceptible smirk would cross Light's face before disappearing. It unnerved L. _

L's thumb pressed against his mouth as he watched Light Yagami on the screen before him. The man was not what he had been expecting at all. When he had been given the case from an insistent American CIA three days ago, he had been informed that this supposed 'Death Note' was currently being held by the NRPS under the care of a 'Dr. Yagami'. L had thought it a bit unusual that the name was also given as his contact on the officer in charge of discovering the notebook, minus the titular 'Dr.', but the percentage of that being significant had seemed extremely small. He'd assumed that the two Yagamis were most likely unrelated and it was an interesting coincidence at best that two men in completely different departments had the same last name. It hadn't occurred to him to ask Watari to run a background check on the doctor, or he wouldn't have been so surprised to a tan skinned, auburn-haired Adonis walking around freaking out at Mello.

L rubbed his eyes and peered at the screen again, the feed for which was coming from a small camera attached to Mello's leather vest with adjoining microphone on the next button below. The man was just so incredibly young. Perhaps even younger than Mello. His face was smooth and had the kind of timelessness that could be either 18 or 28 depending on how the shadows hit him.

L glanced down at the freshly delivered and printed background check that he'd ordered the moment Light had said 'my chair'. This Light Yagami certainly was something.

Son of the police chief, two extremely difficult doctorate degrees, on top of a perfect record at To-Oh, on top of to national tennis championships during the two years he actually spent as an undergraduate. And now, claiming his status as an international tour de force in an extremely picky field of theoretical physics, having twice now contributed to major research projects all before his 28th birthday. The only time in which he'd even begun to become less than sensational in his field had been within the last six months- but of course L knew the reason behind that.

He turned back to the screen and was surprised to see Yagami practically throw the notebook at Mello, clearly seething with rage. Surprised and curious, L turned up the volume once again.

"So yah, really it's you who has no qualifications to be deciding what to do with a weapon of this potential. After all, you're just a _physicist_." Mello's smug tone wafted out of the television and L cringed a bit. The man had flare, and he was able to get into anywhere and talk to anyone, but sometimes he was just obnoxious. Judging by the slightly seething look on Yagami's face now was one of the more obnoxious times for the blond. Much to his credit, Yagami didn't even attempt to respond. He turned solidly on his heel and pushed out the door- probably going for a stiff drink if Mello's frequent conversation partner's past actions could be any indicators.

L turned off the feed from Mello's chest, as staring at the edge of Yagami's desk without Yagami wasn't particularly illuminating or even entertaining, and sat back in his chair, pulling his feet in tight.

He had initially planned on dismissing any further involvement from Japanese scientists when it came to the investigation, but with Yagami being in charge that might have to change. The man was certainly more capable than L had ever dreamed, and there was a high percentage that he wasn't actually involved or possibly even completely unaware of the political scandal that surrounded the notebook.

Still, the American government would not be particularly pleased if he chose to keep the auburn haired man in his employ. There was a delicate power struggle going on between the two countries and L didn't want to upset the balance more than the drunken antics of one misguided Interpol agent already had. L sighed and reached out for a piece of the strawberry cheesecake that had been left by Watari only an hour ago. It was already half gone, and L knew that was bad even for him and his seemingly undefeatable metabolism.

It was a risk to keep Yagami on the case. Not to mention the fact that he brilliant as he was, he was a theoretical physicist. L was not particularly concerned with the physics behind the notebook's power, though he could definitely see why it was such a passion of Yagami's after skimming through his findings. No, L _was_ interested in how the notebook worked, but on a more layman's approach. Though he was reluctant to admit it, there was a high percentage chance that the notebook operated through a power given by a non-human entity. It was L's job, as dictated by the joint forces of the USA and an unwilling Japan, to find out the nature of this entity or power source and neutralize the threat so that Japan no longer wielded an incomprehensible military advantage over other Heads of State. That or deliver it to Interpol intact so that it could become a joint weapon in the war on global terrorism. L shuddered slightly at the thought. He wasn't sure that he would fulfill that part of his contract, even if it proved to be feasible. The idea of anyone, even Interpol, being able to strike down criminals with just a name and face disturbed L in a deep way. There was something about the idea that seemed to scream 'god complex', and L would not be a party to that. Nevertheless, that was something to worry about when he got to it.

For now, he had a doctor to meet, and a minion to scold.

_Light was growing more and more wearisome of the odd boy sitting next to him, muttering in his ear about the Kira case. The clear disrespect the unusual foreigner was showing to To-Oh's welcome ceremony was abhorring, and Light wasn't fond of the fact that they would now be remembered together as the Freshman Representatives for the rest of his To-Oh years. And the way he sat…Light's train of complaints ran to a dead stop as the boy turned to face him. Light was on edge, scared to reveal any emotion that he shouldn't and annoyed that whoever this person was had essentially ruined his entrance ceremony. _

"_I wanted to tell you…I'm L". And the world faded away as the echo of those words pulled Light under. _

Light was growing more and more wearisome of the odd man staring at him from across the cafe. He was obviously foreign and probably thought Light was too because of his unusual coloring. Great, Light thought, he's trying to make a friend of me. Well no! Light had enough friends! He glanced down at his cell phone that hadn't lit up once since he'd yelled at Tzuki and his father to leave him to his thoughts for the afternoon. Okay, maybe the idea that he had enough friends was an over-exaggeration. If Light was honest with himself, he knew that he kept a close group of associates in his profession that were often useful on a research team or had some gravitas to their professional name that could be lent to one of his more experimental theories. Other than that, he preferred to be alone. And certainly not with bed-headed strangers that watched him over cheesecake.

Light shook his head slightly at himself and turned back to his newspaper, taking a long sip of his coffee and tried to unwind. He shifted both of his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that lay between them and took another sip. Still feeling another's eyes on himself, he glanced back up at the bed-headed stranger. Black pools met solid amber, and the inky depths of the stranger's eyes pulled Light in, pulled him under. Smiling softly, the man kept Light's stare as he stood up and crossed over to Light's table.

"Hello Dr. Yagami. May I take a seat?" Light felt himself nod as he took in the man slouched in front of him. As the man pulled out his chair, Light allowed himself a quick assessment of the man. A thin but expensive looking white sweater clothed his torso, clinging to lean muscle flatteringly. Light would hazard a guess that it was made out of cashmere, and fine quality cashmere at that. Then jeans that rode low on athletic hips were of similar design- nondescript, but quality material and make. There was also an interesting lack of noticeable brand marks, and the leather slip on shoes looked professionally handmade and had an unusually thick sole similar to a running shoe- obviously customized. All of this set Light on edge more than the fact that the man knew his name. Many people knew his name, heck, many people knew he favored this coffee house regularly when he wasn't busy pouring over the Notebook. Many people had even shown up here after he'd been named Tokyo's most eligible- men and women alike peering at him over coffee and trying to hide admiring looks flashed through batted eyelashes. It had been awful; Light had been forced to retreat a full two blocks away to get his coffee for a solid month.

However none of those people had been dressed in ambiguous clothing that lent no detail whatsoever as to whom the owner could be or where he shopped. None of those people had set Light's teeth on edge by their ability and apparent desire to blend into the woodwork despite their own oddity. And in Japan most people certainly didn't know his name while wearing deceptively clingy men's sweaters specifically cut on the bias to flare out in the back, the purpose of which Light guessed was to conceal a back holster most likely containing a firearm. A back holster would imply that the weapon was either an extremely precautionary measure, never to be drawn- or that the man was just good enough to pull off that tricky of a draw in a time of crisis. Light wasn't sure which answer he would prefer, and had a sneaking suspicion that they were both true.

The man sat down and stared at Light with those closed off ebony eyes, only revealing a beautiful reflection of Light in their depths. The man was as closed off as Light knew he could become, and the bothered him.

"What have you figured out about me, Doctor?" There was an amused look on the man's face as he asked the question, as if he was asking the question to a precocious child. Light bristled.

But the question he asked _was_ tricky. Light could feign ignorance and play the role of a brilliant but scatter-minded scientist, and see if he could get the man to reveal more about himself in the upcoming conversation- or he could answer properly with his observations and hope that the man respected him enough to confirm his quickly forming theory.

Or, he could go balls out and really fuck with the guy. Light felt a sharp twinge in between his shoulders, a pain that hadn't left him since he began working on the Notebook, and one that had only been growing since he'd heard of L's planned takeover of his investigation.

Balls out it was. Light could be a real bastard when he was pissed.

Light gave another slow glance for show before answering, eyes dancing from the bottom of the stranger's feet, up the fine muscling of his chest and finally to obsidian eyes.

"You're L." He dropped the proclamation with an air of casual indifference, as if commenting on the weather and was rewarded with a momentary widening of white surrounding black before hearing a soft chuckle.

"You don't disappoint. But tell me, what leads you to that particular conclusion? I could be merely another associate like Mello." Light shook his head to the man's response, softly murmured with a practiced empty voice.

"First, I don't believe L would fuck with me again by sending another obnoxious associate so soon after I threatened to tear the ball-sack off the last one." L looked amused at that for a moment, before sliding his face back into neutral.

"Second, your first associate set a precedent. He was quirky and loud, chosen to meet me to assess my role in whatever you want with the Notebook for his people skills- or lack thereof when he chooses. But he was unique. Highly describable, highly profile-able. I'd put 20,000 yen on a pyromania predilection after only a morning in his company." Light threw his answer out without real thought, focusing more on the pale man's reactions. A small tensing of his left hand that Light had noticed a small burn scar on during his 'for show glance over' pleased Light, and he plundered on.

"It is my guess that L surrounds himself by other such associates- highly capable in their chosen capacities, but in some ways deficient by their own quirky and faceted personalities. He lets them remain so in order to protect himself, because by comparison he is indistinct- a shadow. They run his connections with other countries, taskforces, etc and he is free to be merely an anonymous face in the background- always there and never known to be so. You fit that profile, down to your non-marking soles and untraceable clothing." The man leaned forward as Light spoke, staring intensely at Light's face and Light felt a small shiver at the base of his spine as he realized the man was reading Light as he answered. It was unnerving.

"You are correct in all these things, but it would appear" He sat back into the wooden back of his chair, no longer staring at Light as intensely with those keen eyes, "that you just made up everything you just said based on my admission by omission earlier when I did not deny your answer that I am L. So tell me honestly, Doctor" he leaned forward again, but this time the mood was conspiratory but Light felt in on the joke "_how_ did you know I was L?" Light paused before answering. Ah, what the hell. He was feeling generous.

"I guessed." To Light's surprise, a small grin lit up the man's face, remaining for a brief moment before sliding off into the politely neutral countenance Light was beginning to label as 'default mode' for the foreign detective.

"I see. Tell me Dr. Yagami, would you like to work for me?"

_Light had never been in a more unusual situation. It was almost amusing. The great detective L was telling him he thought he was Kira, while simultaneously offering him a job. It just proved the man had absolutely nothing on him, and Light felt a rush of power. He held the cards here. As long as he knew for a fact that L was L, and L could only speculate that Light was Kira, then Light would win. This knowledge…the superior knowledge that he would win…Light wondered if that's what godhood would feel like. _

Light had never been in a more unusual situation, and that was including his senior year's formal where he had been coerced into taking an upcoming model named Amane Misa by a teen lifestyle magazine. It had not been amusing. He had been told by his school's administration (and dozens of his peers) that the publicity by being profiled in the magazine would be good for the school, provide a colorful note on his records, and overall be a good time.

It had been horrible. Amane had turned out to be the worst kind of model, constantly posturing and posing for cameras that stalked them the entire night instead of the hour they had told Light during the arrangements. She had also referred to herself in the third person, and had constantly and heavily implied that they should continue to see each other outside of his ruined formal.

But although his current situation was incredibly weirder than even that, it was also incredibly more enjoyable. He was seated across from the world's foremost detective who was eating a small tray of deserts, while sipping a glass of wine and being presented with what appeared to be an employment offer while seated inside the sitting room of a ridiculously plush hotel suite. Statues sat on pedestals around the room, and Light noted the expensive green orchids residing in an oriental face on the coffee table between himself and the detective. Bizarre, Light thought again, as L paused in his devouring of a piece of flan to hand Light a small folder.

"As you can see, I do offer extensive dental benefits." His eyes flicked to Light's lips which were currently engaged in a wine flavored kiss with the glass in his hand. "Despite your impeccable teeth, it might be a point worth considering. I have noticed that you drink a lot of coffee, and whitening is not included in your current benefits package. If you wish to continue to have a perfect smile, come work for me." Light snorted and put down his glass. L continued to get weirder the more he talked, and Light was beginning to believe that the calm façade he'd been witness to in the coffee shop was a very hard kept act.

"You're suggesting I base my entire decision to uproot myself for a very vague offer on your end over dental care?" L gave him another one of those small grins before he turned back to his desert.

"I'm suggesting Dr. Yagami seems to have a preference for dental hygiene and it would be worth his consideration when contemplating whether he wants to spend his years as a stymied doctor with bad teeth, or a high rolling international tour de force with a shining smile to blind admirers." Light couldn't help it. Perhaps it was the effect of the alcohol, or that for the first time in six months he didn't feel the Notebook's cloying presence eating away at the back of his head, but he laughed. Long and hard until he ran the risk of being rude by how long he was laughing. L merely watched him, a hint of his own amusement barely visible in the way his usual deadpan expression had changed slightly around the corners of his mouth, a softening and uprising that was barely noticeable, but it was there and it made Light feel all the more cheery.

"And I'm suggesting that if L wants me to take him seriously, he needs to present me with a concrete offer that doesn't use social anxiety tactics based off my appearance to get me to acquiesce. No more talking about how my auburn locks are less than lustrous due to florescent lighting and lack of sunshine, and no more comments from you on my intake of aspartame and caffeine to keep going- especially after I've seen what you eat. Level with me L, why the offer of actual employment as opposed to just working with me as partners on _my _case that you may or may not actually be cleared to consult on." There was no physical sign of the mood changing this time, but Light felt it as L's eyes penetrated his own and he could sense deep down that the man was making a judgment call on him the same way he had made a judgment call when he decided to name him as L in the coffee shop. It was instinctual.

"Dr. Yagami…you are a brilliant man, remarkably and dangerously so. It actually frightened me a bit at first when I discovered the nature of your mind, to know that I had missed such an intellect. I usually hand pick the best for my teams and overlooking you seems to be a large error on my behalf." Light felt a small rush of warmth in his stomach at L's words, and had to suppress his own pleasure at the detective's approval. After all, he was all the things L had said, and knew it. Just because L had stated them out loud didn't make them anymore true, and Light was resolutely holding onto his self-made illusion that he didn't care what the detective thought. He may seem nice, but he was still a vigilante letter fuck. Yes. That. Light chose to casually ignore that he was sipping the vigilante fuck's wine and rather enjoying himself. He couldn't help it if he was an agreeable person who got along well enough in just about anybody's company. Especially when there was wine.

"However, it's disquieting how remarkably naive you are. Your innocence is adorable, and you wear it well, but you honestly cannot discern why I chose to offer you employment in my own ranks? A position that would remove you from say…international scandal…before continuing your work?" Light stared. The fuck? The gentle warmth from earlier burned hotter and turned into anger. What exactly was the detective implying? That Light was somehow in a position to be in some sort of international fuckery in his current position? Light bit back a smart retort and took a long sip of wine to stop himself from biting off a reply in anger. He slowly put his glass back down on the coffee table, and took time to note the intricate pattern carved intaglio style on the marble surface. He reconsidered his placement of his wine, and reached for a coaster. Then he replied.

"You find me naïve? In what way, exactly? Yes, I was not aware that my country's government had kept the Notebook from Interpol, an action that I disagree with, but that hardly puts me in a position of scandal. I am a scientist, I can't be held responsible for the actions of politicians or policemen." L was frowning at him, and it bothered Light. No, no it did not bother Light, because L could disapprove of Light all he wanted and Light couldn't give less of a fuck. Yes. That.

"You don't believe that in a truly regrettable situation where they had to choose someone to pin the blame on for Japan using the notebook in a military manner, that you're name would be first on the list?" Wait, what?

"You don't believe that your name has already come up in such discussions? Are you really so naïve that you believe being an upstanding man of science is in any way going to dissuade the international sharks from tearing you down with your connection to a notebook of death? Be serious, Dr. Yagami."

"Excuse me? Are you insinuating that in some way I am responsible for any of those actions? I did not know that Japan had kept the Notebook from the international heads of states, as a matter of fact, I was led to believe that they had done exactly the opposite! And there's no way to use the Notebook for military power, it's under my supervision at all times! So yes, I don't believe that anyone can complain- international shark or otherwise- at how I've been conducting my research." There was that look again. That look of almost condescending apology. It made Light's blood boil and the fire in his stomach burned higher.

"Exactly, Dr. Yagami. _You were led to believe_. You've been led to believe a lot of things. You honestly think that if Japan came into true conflict with another country that the Death Note being under your supervision is going to stop your military from using it? That because you are too good to test it in the one way almost any other scientist would have tested it, it's going to stop anyone else from using it to kill? Yes, Light, it's obvious that you would not be and are not responsible for anything happening with the notebook, but that would not stop them from framing you, twisting your image, and ultimately destroying you. I am offering protection from that."

L's words swam around Light's head as he processed them, the only thing sticking was that the other man had called him by his first name. Light vaguely wondered if that had been a slip, because he was foreign and used to calling others by their given name. That was a weird tradition, Light thought, as he took another sip of wine. How did they show each other respect then?

"I believe you are mistaken. My government would never abuse the power of the Death Note, especially after it was used to kill off members of our own House of Councillors. And despite what you seem to think, my position is one that is highly sought after and respected. My supervision of the Notebook does mean that I can stop someone from using it to kill, actually." L gave him a small smile. Light was beginning to dislike the man intensely. Well, more intensely than he had already disliked the concept of L. Now he could personalize his hatred.

"It would appear we are at an impasse then, Dr. Yagami. For what it is worth, I respect your fastidiousness in your beliefs and truly wish that I could have as much faith in your fellow countrymen as you do. However, as my associate Mello informed you, I am here representing the USA's interest in what is the greatest military threat the world has ever seen. I will assess the validity of the threat, instead of treating it like my pet Nobel Prize project as you have done, and then _I will neutralize it_. I only hope I don't have to do the same to you."

And for the second time that day, Light walked out on someone mid-conversation, pausing only to place his glass of wine next to a particularly ugly statue.

L leaned back in his plush velvet chair and slid another piece of cake into his mouth. The cheesecake icing melted slowly, mixing perfectly with the moist cake the only incongruity in texture being the crunch carrots that L believed gave him all the nutrition he needed for today.

He sighed and placed aside the cake after two more quick bites and returned to thinking about his problem with a very obstinate brunet.

The man, no, the _boy_ was even more clueless than L had thought. The way his sepia eyes had lit up as he talked about how he could protect the notebook had told L everything he'd needed to know.

It was almost…cute. Endearing. There was a dedication to the purest forms of justice and truth that had led Light Yagami through life, and he had stuck by it because so far he had been successful. It was truly a good thing he had gone into science instead of detective work, L thought idly. He knew the doctor consulted on cases, using brilliant logic to find and capture criminals from behind the scene, but that was a very different beast from working on cases day in and out. Being the first on the scene after a murder. Pouring over countless pictures of the horrors humanity was capable of. It changed a person, and no one L knew who had seen what he had could stand and say the same things Light had.

L shook his head. It was just bizarre. A beautiful and sophisticated mind like Yagami's, fully aware of the extent to which humans could become cruel and feral, and he rejected it- honestly believing the best of those around him in spite of every single evidence to the contrary. And more than bizarre, it was dangerous. Boyhood ideals wandering around in the head of the man in charge of the most terror inducing weapon mankind had seen.

And no matter how cute it was, L had to deal with the man. After meeting him, he had no desire to dismiss Light from the case nor to have him pinned with any of the blame that was going to come raining down should America and England have the slightest suspicion Japan had used the notebook behind Light's back, which L was 87% sure they already had.

That meant he had to protect Light, while also tending to that pesky ego of his. Pesky. That was a good word for Light. Pesky Yagami. It even rhymed.

"He's cute." L didn't look up, instead choosing to stuff his mouth with carrot cake before responding.

"Yes, he is. Your point?" Wedy took the seat across from him, previously occupied by their topic of conversation, and pulled out a carefully wrapped package, letting it drop without ceremony onto the marble coffee table.

"My point is you like cute. Remember that FBI agent, what was it his name? Oh yah. Williamson. He was cute. A bit bigger than this one and a whole lot slower, but real cute." L took another bite of cake, this one a bit petulant. Williamson hadn't been that slow.

"Regardless of what I like, not only does Yagami have a history of dating infamously beautiful women, but this is the kind of case where I cannot lower my reasoning ability by distracting myself with men, cute or otherwise."

Wedy shrugged, the casual gesture leaving L with the impression she disagreed with him, but since he was her very generous employer she was willing to stay quiet.

"What is it Wedy?" L had found that directness, while not always the politest of measures, usually resulted in honesty from the thief.

"I just disagree on him being that keen on women." L kept his face neutral, neither indicating for her to continue or stop.

"I mean, he passed by me in the lobby and didn't so much as give me a second glance! And before you tell me that I'm letting my vanity get the best of me, according to your data, he dates blondes. Lots of blondes. So not only am I his purported preference, but he's in a bit of an angry mood if the look on his face and yours is to be trusted, which is when men tend to do rash things. Like pick up hot girls in hotel lobbies." Wedy finished and leaned back, triumphantly.

"You mean to tell me that you're basing your hypothesis of his sexuality on the fact that he didn't favor you with a passing glance? Despite you falling within his historical preference, it's still a weak case. I expect better from you." Although L couldn't deny himself the small thrill he got at raising his chances by 2 percent.

"Actually, no. I dropped the package in front of him and he bent to pick it up for me. I tried to flirt with him and get his number, but he completely shut me down. I just didn't think you'd like that story." Ah, well, Wedy was right on that account, L thought.

"I'm going to ignore your complete lack of professionalism and I'm also going to completely let go the fact that you let a very sensitive package almost fall into the hands of the last person I want aware of this, in favor of this. You tried to pick up a man you thought I would like? Do personal boundaries mean nothing to you?" Wedy grinned at him.

"Well, if he was straight, what harm would it be? Besides, now you know you have a chance!" No, L didn't 'know' that. But still…7 percent. He'd bet on worse odds before and been successful…

"Moving on, I'll be taking this. You're to remain on retainer in Tokyo for at least the next week. Watari will address your concerns on accommodations and payment." L picked up the package and moved into the inner rooms of his suite as he heard Watari move from his ever vigilant watch over L in the next room through their elaborate camera system, into the sitting room to talk to Wedy. For now, L had to focus on the package and how to handle its brunet owner. He could worry about what else to do with the brunet owner later.

Perhaps while he showered.

Light sank down into his favorite chair and let every single muscle in his body slowly release the day's tension. He absolutely loved this chair. It was a large vintage chair that Light had received day while wandering through the halls of his old physics department after graduating for the second time. Light had not been in a particularly celebratory mood despite his recent success, feeling the looming weight of his future in front of him and wanting nothing more than the Head of the Physics to jump out at from behind his office door and offer Light a job. Instead, he had jumped out and offered Light a chair. The man had explained that he had taken it from the overseer of his own doctorate, and had completely re-upholstered the thing on his own during the month he'd had been graduating and starting working with Japan's space program. He went on about how it had relaxed him, how doing something with his hands had stopped his anxiety over leaving school. And as Light stared at the absolutely appalling hound's-tooth pattern that had faded over the last 43 years, he found himself agreeing to take the chair on and make it his own.

At first, Light had just stared at it. He didn't know the first thing about upholstery, and didn't own any furniture other than what he had kept from his childhood home. The ugly thing had just loomed in Light's new and empty living room. But slowly, Light realized that he was thinking about it then back of his mind as he tried to occupy himself during the two month interim between graduating and starting with the NRPS. Two weeks after he received it, he'd decided he wanted tan leather. Light had then gone out and found an amazing deal on vintage leather from an antiques shop down the street and across the corner from his housing provided he strip it from the old train seats himself. The seats were from America, the old owner had explained, he'd gotten them as an oddity for people who liked that sort of thing, but apparently those people didn't shop at his store. So he set Light to them with a seam ripper and somehow six weeks later as he was preparing to go to work on the first Monday of the month, Light laid his suit jacket out across his re-stuffed, re-upholstered, completely reworked large leather chair that stood proudly in his newly furnished living room. It had been that project that had made Light realize that he could do more than academia and tennis, that he could literally build up a chair with his own hands (cuts notwithstanding), and that he could tackle the professional world.

In short, nothing could bother Light while he was in his chair. Not that he had much time to relax in it lately. But maybe with L 'taking over' he could find a few nights to kick off early…sip wine, listen to music, read…all in his comfortable chair.

Light's cell phone went off and he narrowed his eyes at it, daring it to ring again. It did. Damn thing. Light sighed and pulled himself out of his chair over to his work bag and fumbled for the stupid thing. It was probably Tzuki calling to check in on why he had all but abandoned work for the day, and while Light knew in his head that it was a reasonable thing to ask of one's boss, it still annoyed him. Barely registering the unknown caller warning, Light flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Yagami, we need to speak immediately. In person." L's smooth voice filled Light's ear and he felt a strange mixture of anger and pleasant warmth re-enter his stomach.

"No, we don't. I'm off the clock. I'm done. Go away." Light was aware he sounded like a petulant two year old, but honestly that was how the man seemed to see him anyways so it hardly mattered. Besides, Light was tired and entitled to be left _alone_ at times. It was a basic right!

"Dr. Yagami, while I would normally respect your preference to be left alone to do whatever or whomever you fill your free time with, this is really not a request so much as it is me telling you to get yourself to my hotel immediately, or have my men pick you up." Light blinked. Had there been a subtle innuendo hidden in that speech? Do…whomever…

"L, I'm not in the mood. I'm really not. I'm sure whatever it is can wait at least until the morning." Who was this man that Light had to be giving him excuses? Yes, sure, maybe he was technically now in charge of Light's research, but still. That didn't mean he controlled Light outside of work hours. Great dental plan or not, there was no way Light would ever consider working for the man if this was how he treated personal time off. Not that Light had been considering the ridiculous offer at all. Really.

"I discovered the notebook's power source. I'll see you within the next half hour." The line went empty.

Light's hand shook softly and his phone dropped down onto the white rug beneath Light's slippered feet. He had..solved..

What. The. Fuck.

Light thought he must be going into shock. That had to be why even as his breathing shortened and his hands felt vaguely tingly, he was so removed from it. Oh look, now he'd dropped onto his knees. That was interesting.

"Breath Yagami. It's all going to be okay, shh shh, little scientist." There weren't many things that could have snapped Light out of the spiral of panic and inadequacy he had been about to enter. Hearing 'Mello's' voice next to his ear while a leather covered hand patted his back and then began to move in lazy circles across his muscles was one of them.

"The hell?" Mello smirked at him.

"You are just quite the eloquent one aren't you Doctor? Always such a way with words." He bent down and grabbed Light under his arm and hefted the shell shocked scientist up without much difficulty.

"Got a call from L, said to come down to your place because he needed to see you and you might require a ride. He wants you there fast, you see, and the subway's not going to cut it. So I get here, and he tells me he's going to try and convince you to come. Next thing I know, he's calling me again telling me I should probably keep you from collapsing in shock. And here we are." Mello threw Light's left arm around his shoulder and the brunet didn't even protest as he felt himself moved forward and out of his apartment. Light dimly noted that Mello shouldn't have been able to get into his apartment, but that was a problem for later.

"Did he really solve it?" Light turned to his puppeteer and saw a small, almost pitying smile gracing chocolate flaked lips.

"Yah kid, he did. Up we go." Light slid onto the motorcycle behind Mello, not bothering to care that if would force him to be in extremely close proximity with the volatile blond. He merely slid his arms around Mello's waist and pondered exactly how much he must suck at physics to be beaten by the detective. A letter. A letter beat him. What did that make him if he was less than a letter?

L stared at the Shinigami before him, who was casually munching on an apple and floating Indian-style in mid-air through L's sitting room.

"So you are the guardian of the notebook?" L held back a wince as the creature swallowed the entire core in one bite.

"Yup. We're sort of a package deal. And have a little more respect for the Death Note. Your little brown-haired friend has the right attitude about the thing. I like him better, why couldn't he touch it? Always wearing stupid gloves…" L merely raised an eyebrow at that admission and noted that apparently Dr. Yagami was appealing even to gods of death.

"What do you mean the right sort of attitude?" The thing grinned leeringly.

"He respects the Death Note. Have you ever noticed how he talks about it? He refuses to call it by its name; I think he's scared of it. Or maybe he's scared of how much he wants to use it."

"I don't think Dr. Yagami is interested in using the Death Note." Here the creature, Ryuk, burst out into full on laughter, braying horribly for a solid minute before quieting enough to answer.

"Maybe. But that doesn't matter to the Death Note. It makes you want it. And the dear doctor has been shitting his pants for the past six months over how much he wants it. Sure, he's told himself he just wants to figure out how it works- but really, he wants to possess the Death Note. Learn all its secrets. Master it. And before mastery, comes practice. You may not know this cause he's still so handsome, but he was a lot prettier when he first got the Death Note. It's been eating away at him. Literally." The sick cackle of the creature left a small queasiness in L's stomach as it resonated around the room.

"Dr. Yagami is an upstanding individual. Your opinion of him leaves much to be desired." The Shinigami then swooped in, close to L's face and L remembered vaguely that the creature could kill him whenever he chose.

Mortality really did suck.

"Yah, well, he's certainly not upstanding with what he does in the shower. Besides, as much as I like him, he hardly ever keeps apples in the house. What kind of person doesn't keep apples handy?"

L arched an eyebrow.

"What does he do in the shower?" The Shinigami leered at him. Leered!

"All the sorts of things I bet you wish you could do to him. To be perfectly honest, if I still had those parts I'd do it to him myself too…I like 'em young and pretty. Don't ever tell him I said that though. It'd be real embarrassing." Ryuk chuckled, and laughed more at L's expression. It was obvious the thing found L highly entertaining. L tried to avoid picturing the Shinigami and Light in the shower. Really. He just pushed that thought away.

"Well that's…interesting. Why does the Death Note make humans want to use it?" Ryuk swooped in a happy circle mid air before answering.

"You ask good questions. I can't think of the last time I heard of a human so interested in how it worked instead of killing people, except for Light. I think it's because the Death Note needs to be used, otherwise what's the point of it existing?" The Shinigami then busied himself with the barrel of apples and L accepted the dismissal, busying himself with his thoughts.

So the Death Note somehow appealed to humans enough to get them to use it. But was that a power of the notebook's, or a comment on humankind's nature? L knew it was tempting power to have, the ability to kill anyone anywhere with only a name and face. Not having to feel the blood on your own hands made killing just a matter of sending in an order. L would know, he'd wielded that very power for almost 20 years now.

So perhaps that was why he was disgusted by the notebook, instead of tempted. Of course, the Shinigami spilling apple flecks all over his carpet could also be a large part of his disgust.

Another thing that struck him was that by the way the Shinigami spoke of the notebook, as though it were a separate entity from itself. But hadn't the Shinigami created it?

"Ryuk, are you not the master of the Death Note? Did you not create it?" The Shinigami looked up from his apples, red eyes glowing and sending a shiver up L's curved spine.

"Not at all. You could even say it was the other way around." Well, perhaps L had been a bit early in his call to Light then. Perhaps he should call back and tell the brunet to come back in the morning, after L probed and prodded the creature for every last answer he could. After all, L had ordered ten gourmet apple pies not a half hour ago, he was sure he could truly get to the bottom of the notebook's origins by morning.

"Is that so? Why don't you tell me more, after I make a quick phone call…" The Shinigami laughed.

"If you're calling to tell little Light to not come because you fucked up, don't bother." L frowned. He hadn't 'fucked up', merely hyperbolized his findings.

"And why not?" The Shinigami pointed at the door, and L could hear Mello's voice outside of it, but he could only make out the word 'come'.

"They're here."

Author's Note: Well well, there was a huge horrible and not so subtle drop of foreshadowing in that second to last sentence there. Yup, you're all going to hate me come next chapter if you can figure out what's going to happen. Still, enjoyed this chapter? REVIEW! To my reviewers so far- You made my day, and made this chapter go all the faster. Chapter 3 is limping along, I'm just trying to decide which plot line to go into first, cause there's a lotta drama up in this bitch. But by limping along, I mean expect it by next week or so.

Also, on L's age- yes. All ages are canon.

This story is shaping up to be a lot more philosophical than I originally intended, so just fair warning, it might get deep as a mine shaft for a while. Hopefully, that excites you. But don't worry, I won't make you suffer through endless circular talk of purpose and ethics. We have plot and boy love to get to.

Thanks for reading!


	3. Of Nighttime

Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, Light would have been a very bad prisoner. So bad. And so needing of being punished by the prison warden L.

Light paused outside the hotel, staring up at the large building as it reached into the sky beckoning vulgarly to all with its neon lights glistening outside. There was no refinement to the building, only excess. Looking at it hurt Light's eyes, but he continued to stare. Inside this building lay the answer to the problem that had haunted him for half a year now, and he couldn't find any relief in the thought. He wondered if he should feel jealous. All he felt was cold from the ride over, and a small ting of worry that his hair must look appalling from the ride over. But really, he should feel jealous. He should feel a righteous anger that L had beaten him. He was Light Yagami, second to no one.

But no, if L really had cracked the Notebook in 36 hours, then he deserved every ounce of praise Light had heard heaped onto the man since he'd starting working with the police. Light had to respect that, even if it was begrudgingly.

Light just felt empty, tired, and ready for answers. All the tension he'd been carrying around for the past sixth months was gone, leaving his muscles too lose and ready to give out on Light at any moment.

"Come here kid. You look like shit." Light blinked in surprise, and turned to Mello who was watching him with an amused smile and offering his arm.

"You know, I do believe I am older than you." Light muttered darkly, brushing past the blond into the hotel. Mello followed, chuckling and pulling out another candy bar.

"Being a kid has nothing to do with age, Doctor. You may be a few years older, but I've got a solid decade of real living on you. You've got innocence tattooed on your forehead. When's the last time you stood up for you? Did something for Light that wasn't pre-scripted by Mom and Pops, or society?" Light frowned and wracked his brain for an appropriate response. He wasn't used to taking shit for his actions. His actions were in were in line with society's and his parents expectations, there was nothing wrong with that. Besides, his dad had been a little peeved that he went into research instead of direct investigation. Although, it didn't matter seeing as Light still contributed more to his father's department during his off hours than full-time members.

"That I follow my parent's guidance and the expectations of others bothers you? Are you insinuating that I should be wearing leather and eating too much chocolate so that eventually I'll get too fat for the leather and develop diabetes so I can't eat the chocolate?" Light grumbled out the insult as they hit the elevator, feeling overly prickly. The blond man seemed to have a knack for finding and hitting all of his sore spots.

"I'm implying that you let yourself get caught up in your own press, kid. You feel like you owe other's something because you're some genius and it's your duty to change the world. It happened to L too, ya know. All the expectations of genius, all the pressure of the world. He forgot that he's still human, and still deserves to have fun and just fuck around for a while. Forgot that he deserved to get what he wants out of life and that being a genius doesn't mean you owe the world shit. He also forgot that genius or not, sometimes we all fail. It was really bad, the first time he failed. I'm just hoping it won't be as bad for you. You need to chill." He glanced sideways at Light, who was fuming. Who the hell did Mello think he was? He didn't know Light! Just because he happened to be completely fucking right…

Light just leaned up against the cool elevator wall and let himself relax against it, dropping any pretense of pride he'd had left. He'd been beaten. Finally. By a letter that he'd hated for as long as he'd been in the police force. He was still brilliant, but that just made his ass kickings all the much grander in nature. Mello was right. Mello was completely fucking right and it infuriated Light to a degree he hadn't known he was capable of being pissed. He also wasn't expecting the wave of relief that hit him as he realized what failure meant. He was free to fail, nothing bad had happened. The world hadn't stopped spinning, and his parents weren't crying over what a disappointment he was. But still, the blonde hadn't needed to point it out.

"Fuck you." Mello laughed.

"Gladly." And then a soft, chocolate flavored mouth covered his. Light froze for a moment, eyes snapping open before a leather covered hand ran gentle fingers under his throat and tipped his head up and Light was lost. This felt good. He opened his mouth to the demanded invitation from Mello and moaned gently as the taller man pressed him harder against the elevator wall, hand moving from Light's throat down to Light's hip, pulling their cores into each other's. _Fuck_, Light thought as Mello expertly guided their kiss. Why was that the only word he could ever seem to come up with around the blond? And why on earth was he letting it take on a completely different context in the middle of a public elev- Light's thoughts trailed off as Mello lightly kissed down his jaw and gently ended on his Adam's apple.

"See?" Mello whispered breathily into his ear. "That is what you deny yourself because you think Daddy won't like it. The same way you deny yourself the freedom to be wrong, because society wouldn't like it. For a smart guy, you get really caught up in defining yourself by other's expectations. Light..." he softly whispered Light's name into his ear and Light shivered slightly. "Learn to _lighten_ the fuck up."

And then they were kissing again and it was wild and passionate and the exact kind of kissing Light had always wanted, but never allowed himself because…Because why? All Light could focus on was Mello's tongue, and Mello's hand, and Mello's hard chest pressed against his and fucking right it felt to be giving in to the blond man in the middle of an elevator on the way to see the other man who had solidly kicked his ass at what was supposed to be his greatest victory. Light could feel himself getting harder, and he moaned as Mello's thigh pressed between his own. Light had never liked the taste of chocolate much before, but now he was beginning to think that it was addicting.

The elevator dinged.

"Now…go play nice with L. Then _come_ play nice with me." Mello pressed one more kiss on Light's lips before casually exiting the elevator as though they hadn't just been playing tonsil hockey like teenagers.

_Fuck_. And in Light meant that in the best way possible.

L stared at the door as the two men walked through it. Mello offered him a casual wave and headed immediately to the bar. Well that was normal enough.

Light however, did not look normal. He looked flushed and his lips were red. L frowned at that. Perhaps he bit them when he was nervous…? But a giveaway trait like that would have been thrown away long ago by the immaculate doctor who handled his public persona like a well oiled machine. It was unusual.

"Please take a seat Dr. Yagami, I believe we have much to discuss." Light merely nodded and casually sat down across from L. L noted that he seemed to be decidedly less tense that when he had first met the man, or even when he'd seen him in this room last. Was it because he thought he'd been beaten? Or was something else going on? L glanced back at Mello who was eyeing the doctor over his glass of whiskey. L didn't like the slightly predatory glaze over Mello's chocolate eyes.

"Let's just get this over with L, I have matters to attend to and I'm sure you're busy packing up to leave Japan now that you're finished with the case." L frowned. This was not going how he had expected. He had estimated an eighty-three percent chance that the young doctor would come in yelling about L stealing the notebook, and demanding to see his evidence, or some other likewise reaction. But this calm, no, this resignation? He hadn't been expecting it. It put L off.

"Fine then. Though you will probably not be pleased to hear it, I had an associate of mine take the Death Note from your facility late this afternoon. Though Mello was under the supervision of your assistant Tzuki, he was still able to discern your safe's password and pass it along to another one of my associates. She then brought it here, where upon inspection I discovered what I believed to be the nature of the Death Note's power source. I would like you to see it as well." Light just nodded and waited expectantly. Where was the passion, L wondered? This was the man's job for the last six months and he just sat there quietly as though viewing a mildly entertaining presentation.

"I'm excited to see it. Now, please." The snapped out remark bit at L. Where on earth did the man have to be that was more important than this?

"I'm sorry Doctor, did I interrupt something critical with my discovery? Perhaps Dr. Yagami had a date? Or perhaps the Doctor is just being pouty that I have ascertained more about the Death Note in 2 hours with it in my presence than he has in six months." L controlled the amount of pouting he put into his words, but he was seriously put out. Some part of him had delighted in the thought of giving the man before him this piece of information, sure that even though L hadn't completely solved the Death Note (_yet_), Light would still be over the moon once he'd calmed down at L taking the Death Note from him without asking.

Light glanced at Mello. Why, why had he glanced at Mello?

"Yes, actually, I do have a date." Again, the brunet's eyes flicked to Mello, and L was sure he saw a glance pass between the two. "Look, L, you've beaten me. I'm aware of that. There is no need to drag it out. I'm interested in your solution, but I'm really strung out here okay? I'm pissed, I'm livid at you actually. You had no right to come into this investigation, especially at the bequest of foreign nations, but you did. You did, and you beat within a manner of hours. So forgive me if I'm not feeling charitable towards you or any grand revelations at the moment. So get the fuck on with it."

…He had a date?

"Fine. I would like you to touch the Death Note." L pulled out the notebook, sliding it across the coffee table. "But first, I would like to admit that I may have been over-exaggerating when I said I had found the power source for the Death Note. I'm afraid that my initial conclusions were slightly off-base. However, I have made, as you scientific types like to say, a breakthrough." L could feel Mello's questioning stare in the back of his head. Yes, he was admitting he was wrong!, L wanted to shout at the blond. Don't act like it had never happened before. Oh no, the last time he had been wrong the tenacious blond had made it admit it for months. Sometimes he still made him face how wrong he had been. Every time they headed home to England actually and visited that damn graveyard and Mello just glanced at him and said the same thing "You did your best, L. That's all he wanted." But L pushed away the negative thoughts in favor of focusing on the young man before him who looked confused and a bit hopeful.

"You didn't solve it?" The hopeful note in his voice bothered L for some reason. Was he really that comforted by L's failure?

"Not entirely, no. But still, you must touch the Death Note before we move on." Mello walked forward and casually sat down on the arm of Light's chair.

"May I touch it as well? Secrets harm a workplace, you know. They're a leading cause of office tension and social anxiety." Not a day went by that L didn't regret sending Mello off to university for a PhD in psychology. Not a single day.

"Yes, fine, both of you touch it. Watari has already done so, so he can view the full extent of _all _of our interactions from his room." Mello shrugged and slid off his leather riding gloves, gently brushing the irregular surface of the Death Note from his perch next to Light. L noticed the way Light's amber eyes followed Mello's movements and felt a sharp, undefined flash of anger. What exactly had happened between the two of them on the ride over? The last L had heard, Light had wanted to literally tear the balls off of Mello, and that had suited L find. Mello was too much of a player to be left alone with Light, especially if Wedy's assessment of the reserved brunet was right. Especially because L wanted the brunet to himself.

"Holy fuck balls. That is some break through." Mello's eyes were now focused on Ryuk, and the Shinigami actually waved at him. Mello waved back. Light stared at Mello's reaction, and then reached forward.

"The hell?" Light's voice yelped out a second later, as he threw himself back into the plush lilac velvet embrace of his chair, away from the Shinigami who was now grinning mischievously at the terrified man.

"Like I said, I've reached a break through." Crystal clear brown eyes turned to him, and narrowed in anger, the scientist was obviously pissed.

"Yah, you could say that."

Light's head hurt, he decided as he left L's suite at 2 in the morning. It hurt a lot. Hours of questioning the absolutely bizarre creature had set his entire research findings spinning and he didn't want to think of the consequences just yet.

Fuck L, Light decided. Fuck him for making things more difficult after saying that he'd solved everything. The detective wasn't even worth a letter. No, he was maybe a fraction at best. Something completely nonsensical and annoying like 17/239. Light smirked to himself. Ah, that would suit the obnoxious detective just fine. But still, Light needed to figure out how best to handle the Shinigami's presence and exactly what it meant. And the significance of this 'realm' of his that had 'portals' to the human world. Perhaps they were wormholes from the other side of the universe? Or were the meeting points that connected two dimensions, on one side the world he loved and the other a perverse mirror?

"Stop thinking about it." Light turned to the blond who had followed him out of L's sitting area and into the small hallway that stood before the suite.

"I couldn't if I wanted to. A freaking extra-dimensional being has been following me around for six months, while I was trying to prove that there was even such a thing as an extra dimension! And who knows what else this could mean for science? I mean, he implied pretty heavily that he used to be human- some sort of evolved state? I need to consult with the Head of the Biology department, but he says the Notebook freaks him out…" Light's speech was interrupted by the blond pressing him into the wall and kissing him. It wasn't innocent, but it far from the wild passion they had had before. Instead, the kiss was firm, understanding but insistent. Light melted under it.

"Forget it for now. It's late, and the Head of the Bio department is in bed. You should be too, but it's up to you who you want to go there with." Light met eyes with Mello, and felt his breath catch slightly. Gods, but he was attracted to the man. Everything about him was wrong, his gender, his leather, his constant taste of chocolate. But Light had already been wrong once that night, or at least so he had thought. And it hadn't been that bad. A bit of a relief, actually. Light leaned in, and met the blonds' mouth half-way, letting himself be pulled into the stairwell adjacent to the elevator as they kissed. Then he was being pulled down a flight of stairs and led into the hallway directly below L's, and pulled into a similarly expansive suite. And then he was being dragged into a bedroom, and they were still kissing and Light felt free and Light felt alive, and god what was Mello doing with his hand?

Light let himself be pressed down into an expansive bed, covered in red satin sheets, and Mello laid on top of him, their groins meeting in a rough embrace as they continued to kiss.

He gasped as Mello began undoing the buttons on his shirt and kissing at the exposed skin of his collarbone. The blond chuckled throatily above Light and straddled him, removing Light's shirt as he sat up. He started back again on Light's fully exposed chest, and Light arched his back to the meet the hot mouth that was making his nerve endings explode like New Year's fireworks.

"So tell me exactly, Doctor…" Light loved the way the blond said Doctor. Maybe he could make him scream it later. "Am I your first? Or just the first you're actually going to enjoy." Light just pressed his hips up into Mello's and heard a loan groan in response.

"I'm not a virgin, nor a saint Mello. Now stop talking." Light reached up and grabbed the perfectly defined jaw line above him, cupping it in his face as he pulled Mello into a long, lingering kiss.

And those were the last words spoken that night except for names screamed in ecstasy.

L walked into Watari's room after Light and Mello's departure, carrying a tray filled with the man's dinner. The smell of pepper covered tuna tickled his nose unpleasantly, and the side of cauliflower looked like a deformed fungus. How on earth did normal people eat these things? L mused once again, as he often did, that one of these days his metabolism was going to give out, and he'd be forced to eat such things without the constant interruptions of cakes and caramels. It was a day L dreaded with a passion, even more so than retirement.

"Thank you L." Watari smiled from his bed, quietly closing the laptop that he used to remain L's constant companion by monitoring him through their camera system. L pushed down the familiar chocking rise of guilt as he moved forward and adjusted the blankets that had become askew around motionless legs, before settling dinner down in front of his old caregiver.

"You know it's my pleasure Watari." Watari smiled down at L and L had to look away. Even a year later, he still couldn't look the man in the eye. L felt a small rush of self-hatred, and pushed that aside too. Now was not the time to be wallowing in his issues.

"I apologize for you having to stay up so late. I did not know that Light would ask so many questions of the Shinigami." Watari waved his apology away.

"I enjoyed it. I would like to meet the young man, he takes after my line of thinkers after all. I couldn't have interviewed the Shinigami better myself. His ideas on extra-dimensional time space are fascinating." L controlled his wince at hearing Watari's desire to meet Light. Of course the man would want to meet Light, the two shared the same passion for complicated equations and theories that L had always found boring compared to crime solving. But he didn't want Light to see Watari, to see the living reminder of his last failure…No, L would not think about this now.

"Perhaps on his next visit, old friend. For now, eat then sleep." Watari nodded and went to work on the tuna. L turned and walked out, headed to his own room. Ryuk appeared to still be stuffing himself on apple pie and was loudly proclaiming to no one how much he loved the human realm.

L entered his own room and sat down on his bed, staring out at the painting covered wall, letting his mind finally bring up the images he pressed down so hard during the rest of the day.

He had been so sure of himself, that time. So sure that he could take down the serial killer with his wits and delicate string of bluffs.

And it had left Watari crippled and Near…

L pushed the white haired young man out of his mind and lay down on the bed. His thoughts instead turned the young man that had occupied his sitting room not twenty minutes ago. Light Yagami.

L felt a small shiver run down his spine, completely different from the kind Ryuk inspired in him.

He had been incredible to watch. Lightening fast deductions as he talked to Ryuk went over L's head without the proper background in physics. The man had scribbled down complex equations while debating the moral philosophy of the Death Note with Ryuk. It had been fascinating.

L felt a pang of annoyance as he remembered that he wasn't the only one who had appeared to be fascinated. Mello had watched the young doctor with a slight smirk, interjecting his own questions at the Shinigami during Light's pauses. And though L hated to admit it, Mello had been more useful than he had during the ensuing conversation. Though he didn't often feel the need to act like it, Mello was not only brilliant- but exceptionally educated and had an ability to peer into the depths of humanity that eluded even L. The blond had bulleted out questions on the Death Note's power over the human psyche, questioning Ryuk's stance on the object as being almost sentient, and had actually thrown Light and L for a loop by being able to go toe to toe with the impressive creature without so much as batting an eye. L wondered- Mello did know that Ryuk could kill him, yes?

But then again, even that probably wouldn't shake the blond.

L turned his mind away from Mello and Light and focused on the Death Note that he was now technically the owner of.

If he followed through on his directions from the FBI, he should pack up bring the Death Note to Interpol. He had assessed that the artifact was in fact, completely legitimate and did have the power to take a human life as reported. He had also brought the object under his own custody, and as the 'owner' of it, now had more claim to it than Yagami.

But L didn't want to take the Death Note from the young man just yet. His research fascinated L almost as much as the young man himself. L had no problem admitting that his own discovery of the Shinigami would lend as much credibility as needed for Light to be recognized in his research of extra-dimensional space time, and that was something he wanted to give the brunet. If only he could figure out how to politely tell Interpol that he had decided it was within mankind's best interests to use the notebook for science instead of military power…

L's cell phone went off. He hated cell phones, but kept one because in his line of work he should always be accessible.

"Hello?...Yes, yes I see." L put the phone down.

Shit.

Mello's phone went off, and he was hit with the sore desire to throw it right the fuck across the room. No, L, Mello's sleepy time is now, he thought lazily. The phone went off again. Dammit to hell and back, Mello thought getting up. Swearing vicious things against his employer in his mind if this was a call to buy cake, Mello answered the phone.

"What the fuck do you want L?" Mello glanced into the mirror next to his bed and noticed exactly how well-fucked he looked. He glanced over at his bed, where Light was sleeping soundly. Maybe he should go for round two now that he was up…

"Get here immediately." Fuck you, Mello responded in his mind.

"Fuck you." Mello had a fucking PhD in psychology, and a master's in philosophy. He knew how bad it was to repress your feelings. So he was always open in his discourse.

"Within the past twenty-four hours, approximately 200 of the world's leading criminals and murderers have dropped dead from heart attacks. This includes highly prolific dictators- men who ran entire countries Mello. Get here immediately." Mello stared at his phone in disbelief.

"Well…shit."

"Exactly. I'll be calling up Dr. Yagami shortly, I have no doubt he won't exactly be thrilled with this development so you should prepare yourself to collect him." Mello glanced at his bed and the beautiful curve of Light's back that was showing through a tangle of sheets.

"No need, he's asleep in my bed. We'll be up in 20 to an hour depending on morning wood." Mello clicked the phone shut.

He loved being honest.

He put the phone back on its place on his dresser and slid back into bed next to Light.

"Hey sleeping beauty, time to wake up." Light rolled over, flipped him off, and rolled right on back to his starting point.

Mello grinned. He knew how to pick them. But really, they did need to get going…

"No, seriously. L called. Looks like your Death Note has been fucked with. People are dying, up we go." Light just stared at him.

"That's impossible, L is now the owner. Only one to touch it since the last guy. The Shinigami said as much." Oh, well look who had deductive skills when he first woke up.

"Huh…true, which probably means there's another notebook floating around there somewhere. Which then makes it my job, as the handsome assistant to the world's best detective, to find it and stop whoever's using it. Now get up, princess." Light grumbled softly and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Precious.

"Do you always wake up your lovers with crime updates and overall shitty news? Along with horribly inappropriate nicknames? Or am I just special?" Mello grinned and pressed Light down onto the bed, trapping him in-between toned arms and looking down into his face, blonde hair brushing against the auburn locks on Light's forehead.

"So now you're my lover, huh? It's only been one night." Light placed his hands on Mello's naked hips, gently rubbing his thumb in circles over the taught skin before pulling him down on top of the older man's growing erection. Mello gave out a soft hiss. Oh, yes. This little physicist could definitively grow on him.

"You tell me." Light wrapped an arm around Mello's neck and Mello let him lead the kiss, soft and exploratory with a tinge of the fiery passion that had devoured the pair the night before. Light pulled away and began exploring down Mello's neck, and hit a perfect spot behind Mello's ear, earning a moan from the blond, before Mello decided to retaliate by pulling away and beginning a descent down Light's perfectly toned chest.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are one sexy fuck, Doctor?" Light gave out a small whimper and Mello reveled in the power mere words had over the other man's arousal. Just wait, Mello thought, and then the young doctor would see what Mello's mouth could really do.

"Surprisingly no. The Japanese are not often so forward." Mello chuckled and kissed down a flat stomach, gently licking down the small line of hair that led to Light's happy place.

"Well, luckily for you, I am _very_ forward." Before Mello lowered his mouth, he thought for a brief moment that L was going to be really pissed at how late they were. This was a big fucking deal. They should really get there immediately.

Oh well, can't please everyone.

L heard the line disconnect and resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. He needed cake and he needed it now.

He slowly got to his feet and trudged out barefoot into the small kitchen that was included in his suite. Pulling open the cold stainless door, he observed the large amount of various sweets Watari had ordered in the day before. The man was a godsend. L vaguely noted that Ryuk no longer seemed to be present, but pushed it aside. The weird creature was probably spying on Light and Mello and whatever they were doing to wake up, if his openly lecherous statements before were anything to go by.

Light and Mello.

L slammed the door shut after retrieving a ridiculously large strawberry cake, covered in a thick strawberry icing that was covered in the most exquisitely cut strawberry flowers, crystallized by sugar. It was masterpiece- carefully crafted by an artisan of the highest skill and obviously very expensive. L set into it with only his fork, not bothering with slices and plates. Screw the niceties.

L hunched forward more, toes rubbing together anxiously. It made sense, _they_ made sense, and that's what bothered him the most. Light and Mello were both young, much younger than L. And they both had that same willful passion that guided them through life. …And they were both far more attractive than L.

Though Mello had always been a beautiful child, he'd grown up into a dangerously sexy man. Wiry muscles had grown into strong tone as he'd gotten taller than even L, and his penchant for leather and fur only served to showcase more that he was sex on legs.

After all, even L had been tempted after he'd returned from his three-year jaunt into academia looking every bit the part of the international genius playboy he portrayed himself as.

L pushed that drunken mistake out of his head, and instead focused on Light. He barely knew the man, so why was he so bothered to find out he was with someone else?

Especially someone who was so much more Light's own equal?

L shook his head. It really wasn't like him to dwell on such things. He was used to merely finding someone he found attractive enough for a night or week or month, however long he needed a warm body next to him, and then just getting to business.

He couldn't measure up to Light, who was just flat-out beautiful, or Mello, who was just flat-out sexy, but he was attractive enough and more than witty enough so that company of a nighttime nature had never been a problem to procure.

But nighttime company was more than L wanted from the beautiful scientist. The moment he'd seen the other man, he'd wanted to devour him. Those flashing eyes, the adorable optimism with which he viewed the world, that amazing ass…

L wanted him, badly. He wanted to discover every thought lurking underneath those auburn locks, and…he wanted Light to want him too.

L paused at the moment of clarity. Dammit, he hated getting self-analytical.

But he couldn't deny it, now that he had thought it. He wanted to see Light look at him with desire, instead of bemusement or the mixture of outright anger and tinge of jealousy the physicist usually looked at him with. He wanted Light's approval, affection, and adoration.

L shoved another large bite of cake in his mouth. The cake was delicious. Watari had really gone out of his way to find an amazing source of sweets in town- usually cakes were either beautiful or delicious, rarely was the cake both and so perfectly and exactly calibrated to his preference for strawberry. L wished he could appreciate it, instead of just using it to take away the sharp pain in his stomach.

No, he couldn't afford to sulk. He had a case to solve, and precious few clues to get started on. Knowing the murder weapon helped, but it was almost more intimidating that way. L had no place to start- how did you track down someone writing in a notebook?

He would begin by checking heart attack deaths of criminals, going down to the lowest denominator of local- worldwide. Odds are, there would be a few test deaths that could track down the general location of the perpetrator and L could smoke him out using intimidation tactics.

Unless of course, the person had had foresight and made sure even his test victims were in completely different locations than his…

There were just too many variables. Ryuk's notebook had rules written in it, would the other notebook as well? Or had the attached Shinigami explained the purpose of the morbid artifact?

Had the user discovered the Death Note's ability to kill using methods other than a heart attack? Would L have to begin investigating every death of any wrong doer? Would all deaths become suspect?

Perhaps Light would be able to discern a way to use the Death Note's unique energy signature to track down the location of the other notebook. Or would they have different properties?

L stared at his cake, and realized he was halfway through it, and no better off than when he started. He needed vodka. It was a rare instance that L abandoned sweets for more adult comforts, so far he had only done it twice before. The first had been during the same case that had crippled Watari and…killed Near. He flinched inwardly at the thought. The white haired youth still haunted his dreams. Another reason L loved being an insomniac.

He had been strung out during that case, and completely unable to pin down the killer, not to mention having difficulty keeping Near and Mello from killing each other. Though the rivalry had been one sided for most of their youth, something about Mello's return had unsettled L's youngest heir and they'd gone at it since Mello had stomped back into headquarters wrapped in leather, 5 inches taller, 25 lbs heavier, and infinitely more sexy.

So one night, after a particularly grueling day, Mello had snuck into L's room and suggested they go get 'completely fucked up'. And L, as frustrated as he had been, had agreed much to Mello's and his own surprise.

And 'fucked up' they had gotten. L had drunken whatever Mello pressed into his hand, and the blond had been very creative when ordering. The night had ended with the two of them stumbling into the hotel laughing and collapsing on the hotel's couch in a tangle of legs and arms, devouring each other as messily as they could.

L vaguely recalled Near walking in on them, and calmly telling them they should get a room. Mello had laughed and lewdly asked the boy if wanted to join in.

That was all L remembered before waking up the next morning, covered in sweat and regret, amongst other things.

According to Mello, they hadn't slept together. L had trusted the blond on that, and had insisted they act as though nothing had happened.

They hadn't had time for things to become awkward, however, because after that Near had come up with a plan to trap the killer. And L, feeling the pressure of the police and his own failing team, had agreed in spite of the tugging sensation in his gut that said something was going to go _wrong_ with the white-haired youth's plan.

L shook himself from his reverie. Near was gone, Mello was busy sexing L's scientist, and L…L had a case to solve.

He pulled out his cell phone, and began to make calls. And then he poured a drink.

Light was in no position to be getting ready to go to the world's greatest detective sitting room and calmly aiding in a case of this magnitude. He was too busy contemplating the last several hours that had been spent in the company of a blond with a biting laugh and perfect lips.

Oh fuck, what had he done?

Light liked Mello, he did. The man was funny, brilliant, and _hot_.

But Light wasn't the kind to fall into bed without so much as dinner. He really wasn't the sort to fall into bed at all. Light knew he was good-looking, exceptionally so, so he didn't want for admirers. But he did want for quality company, which is why his 'experience' so far tallied in the very low single digits, all female despite the fact that Light had known his own preferences in bed partners since early junior high.

And then there was the fact that Light didn't exactly want to reveal his sexuality to his aging father whose blinding pride of Light had only two dark spots- his choice to become a physicist, and the fact that he hadn't yet settled in with a beautiful young girl and started a family of his own. Light really had no desire to ever have the "Dad, I'm gay" conversation. At all. It was easier to just blame the second complaint on the first, and claim work kept him too busy from finding a wife.

He heard Mello turn off the shower, and then Mello himself entered, a towel hung low on his hips, blond hair turned bronze with water.

"Shower's open. You ah…probably want to clean up." He sent Light a smirk, and began rummaging for clothes in the large drawers of his bedroom's oak dresser. Light rolled out of the comfy satin sheets and headed for the healing water, hoping if he made it hot enough it could take away the ache that was developing in his backside.

He returned his shower and was surprised to see a new outfit in his size laid out on the bed. The khaki pants were of the same designer brand as the ones that had lain crumpled on the floor earlier, abandoned carelessly in the pursuit of pleasure. The shirt was also of designer quality, a deep wine red color. His own shoes were laid out next to the bed, and Light spied socks and boxer briefs as well.

"Where in the hell…?" Mello emerged from the sitting room; carrying a tray laden with two steaming mugs of black coffee, rice, natto and tamagoyaki.

"I had it ordered in. The hotel has a boutique, and I have money. Don't worry about it." Light just shook his head. This was not a cheap outfit, and to buy it at a ridiculous hour in the morning? It must have cost an insane amount, no matter the effect the gesture was having on Light's fluttering stomach.

"Do you learn your moves from movies Mello? Or are you really just this good?" Mello laughed, a harsh bark of a sound. Light thought it suited him.

"I just thought you'd appreciate clean clothes. I didn't know providing you with pants was a way to get into them later on." The smirk the other man wore spoke otherwise, Light thought.

"You're ridiculous." Mello just ignored him and began digging into his breakfast, indicating with his hand that Light should do the same. Light noticed that Mello while Light was now comfortable dressed in his own uniform of well fitting khaki's and a dress shirt, Mello had abandoned his leather and was now wearing low riding sweat pants and a white shirt that clung to his muscled frame. It was, like everything else about the blond, sexy.

"Thank you. You really didn't need to go this far." Light murmured out the awkwardly worded thank you, not used to being grateful or indebted to anyone. Mello just waved his hand again.

"Whatever." Well…then. The blond suddenly looked up, eyes skimming over Light, evaluating him. Light had the feeling he wasn't going to like what came out of the man's mouth next.

"Light, have you ever been involved in a really ridiculously mind fuck of an investigation before? The kind where you lose yourself because you're too busy plotting out what the other person is going to do? And you're scared shitless at the amount of people are dying because you're not doing your job?" Light shook his head. He wasn't sure where the blond was going, but it made his stomach twist unpleasantly.

"I didn't think so. Just…prepare yourself. When we go in, it is going to be the start of something completely new. L is going to be different. _I_ am going to be different. 200 people have died, and that's just the first wave. Who knows how many are going to die before this is done, and you need to prepare yourself because L is going to drag you into it without a care for your health or your mental state." Mello finished his speech by casually sipping the rest of his miso soup down and standing up.

"Let's roll, kid." Light ignored the nickname and followed Mello back up to L's suite, actually feeling slightly anxious. What exactly did Mello mean by different? He'd worked plenty of tough cases, and the only difference he'd noticed in his father's men had been a more vicious nature regarding their coffee supply.

Light and Mello entered the now-familiar suite and Light was surprised to see that it was empty, missing it's owner crouched in his unusual way on the couch or chairs.

"L? Where are you hiding?" Mello's voice rang out in the empty suite, and the man himself dropped casually down on the damask silk couch, casually sprawled out.

L entered, holding up a finger to warn the two of them to not interrupt as he spoke rapidly in a harsh language onto the phone. Light couldn't identify what it was, but it sounded…African? He'd heard L was gifted with tongues, but to see it was impressive. Light wondered how many languages he spoke.

Mello just shrugged at his employer's dismissal, and pulled a laptop out from under the couch, booting it up. He indicated silently for Light to come join him, and Light acquiesced, settling himself down properly on the couch.

Mello began rapidly typing into a program that Light couldn't understand for the sheer fact that it wasn't in a language he couldn't read. It was…Russian? It was beginning to look like Light was well out-classed by the two, at least linguistically, and he was beginning to feel uncomfortably insecure in what exactly he was doing here. Light looked up as L snapped his phone shut.

"Dr. Yagami, I have several inquiries about the Death Note, please try your best to answer them. You research indicates an unusual wave pattern given off by the notebook. Would it be possible to locate a Death Note using this information?" Light started a bit at the sharp tone.

"Ah, no. Theoretically, it might be possible through ray tracing, but that's a stretch. The notebook's waves don't travel very far beyond itself- an unusual irregularity that has become a key focus in our studies. This might change when the Notebook is used for killing, but seeing as that is a variable we haven't tested…" L nodded his understanding and sat down in a chair. Light wondered why he sat like that, was it comfortable? Light would have to try it when he was alone. Because really, it didn't look comfortable but then why else would he..?

"Can you think of any other usual property about the Death Note that might make it locatable?" Light wracked his brain.

"Not…not at the moment. There might be some incongruities to capitalize on, but off the top of my head, I can't imagine something that would work on a global scale." L nodded as though he had expected Light to be useless, and merely glanced at Mello.

"Well?" Light blinked at the simple question, and then started as Mello actually answered.

"Nothing so far. It looks like it was an even sweep worldwide. I'm running a basic analysis to determine the perimeters of the kills- so far it looks like they merely went for those that caused the most damage worldwide. Serial killers, cult leaders- emphasis on those that encourage suicide, leaders of well known terrorist cells, handful of dictators that ran extremely oppressive regimes, all included in the hit. Notably absent are polarizing figures from democratic and republic countries." L nodded and sat down with a sigh.

"They're good, we can't profile based on this. Odds are, it'll be taken as a benevolent act of God by the religious, because no one knows of the existence of the Death Note. Get the USA on the line, we'll need their approval to take the existence of the Death Note before Interpol and eventually the world, before whoever is behind this can establish themselves as a god-like figure." Mello shook his head.

"I'll get the USA, but you know as well as I that the public isn't going to take kindly to the idea of a Death Note." L frowned and his eyes flickered up to Light's face, black eyes meeting auburn. Light tensed for some reason, as those eyes bore into him, staring past any façade he could put up. Piercing him with the same intensity that L pierced his cases, and Light understood what Mello meant by different. This, this was L. The detective, the genius, the powerhouse of intellect the destroyed criminals. Light felt intimidated, unused to being in the presence of someone who could rival his own intellect. L was a dangerous man, and despite his idiosyncrasies and sometimes flat-out childlike behavior, Light should always remember exactly who he was dealing with when he spoke with the detective.

"That's why we have our dear Doctor here. Dr. Yagami, you will of course acquiesce to being the public face to present the Death Note? It cannot be Mello or I due to the fact that according to any all databases, we do not exist. But you are articulate, good looking, and extremely well-known. Besides, you've always wanted to be known for your research on the Death Note, yes?" Though his L's last statement was as flat as the rest, Light felt as though the detective was teasing him in a way, chiding him for his need to be admired. Fuck you L, Light thought grumpily. Then he remembered L could kill him. With. A. Notebook. Dammit. Even though Light wasn't sure what being the 'public face' of the Death Note meant, he had to agree. Besides…he had always wanted a Nobel.

"Of course I will." L nodded and turned back to Mello.

"Guesses on next victims? Motivation?" Mello frowned, and turned back to his program.

"More criminals- kill the bad guys first; establish the presence of whatever the public's going to take this as. Who they kill next depends entirely on who owns the Death Note. We haven't ruled out this being from some government or large group of people. As a matter of fact, I'm leaning towards that theory at the moment." L merely tossed Mello a chocolate bar, pulled from who knows where, which the blond unwrapped almost unconsciously and took a large bite out of before continuing. Light wished someone would throw him coffee. He then considered how that would end, most likely on his pants, and reconsidered. But seriously, someone should at least offer him coffee. The one cup Mello had given him was not enough for the hour.

"The deaths we've seen occur today were premeditated. So far, we see that from the time of death was all within one hour- meaning they occurred as they were written down. The large scale of the deaths indicates that the list of those to die was compiled beforehand, which isn't an easy thing to do. Psychologically, planning to kill over 200 people on your first go is a bitch. It should have broken anyone who tried it alone. But, within a group to dissolve the guilt, it's easier to plan out such things and circle jerk yourself into thinking it's for the greater good." L nodded and Light wondered if he was ever like this in his own element. He'd been told at times that it could be intimidating to watch him work. Light now understood how that could be. Watching the two piece together conjectures out of nothing was…intimidating. Exhilirating. Arousing. Well, that last thought was mostly directed towards the blond in easily removable sweatpants, but still.

"I agree. I also believe we have hit a wall, and will have to wait on various nations' cooperation before we can continue. I have already called in our usual team, so that is taken care of." L paused, pressing a finger to his mouth, eyes on the ceiling as if counting out what thought he was on.

"Dr. Yagami, would you be so kind as to analyze Ryuk? We may be able to track the other Death Note through something irregular about the Shinigami, and you are our resident science genius. Not to mention Ryuk finds you…more tolerable than other humans." Light arched an eyebrow at the pause. Ryuk found him…tolerable? Well, that was gross.

"That is fucking sick if you're implying what I think you're implying L. Although I find it interesting that Shinigami retain sexual desires…" Mello had a knack for verbalizing the most disturbing thoughts, Light thought idly.

"Yes, well, we must use our advantages with the creature, no matter how distasteful they are."

Gross.

"L, I'm not sure how I feel about using anybody's feelings, even Ryuk's, for my own gain. It's very dishonest." And that was true, Light thought. He was against using his charm beyond a friendly attitude to gain favors. The fact that Ryuk terrified him was completely irrelevant. Really.

"Fine, Mello? He thought you were hot enough." There was a dark undercurrent to L's words that Light wondered at. Was L mad at Mello for some reason? Mello, for his part, looked unimpressed.

"I'm not seducing anything that can't seduce me back. House rule." Light laughed at that, and the blond grinned at him through still wet bangs.

L just pouted.

"Fine. But Dr. Yagami will still talk to the Death God. Now, I have work to do. Mello, keep working. Dr. Yagami…" L's eyes trailed down Light's form, and Light suppressed another shudder. Why did the detective insist on doing that? Looking at him with those horribly analytical eyes, as though picking apart Light fault by fault?

"Go to bed, you look like shit." And with that the detective left them.

Author's Note: Oh...Oh my. I actually finished this chapter like 3 days ago, but kept debating whether I needed to go back and just rewrite it all to keep from being lynched on ffn. But...I like it. I do. A lot of necessary shit goes down in this chapter, and hey- Plot and boy love. What I'm all about!

I will just say this. Yes, this is a Light/L fic. They are my one true pair, ya know? But Mello and Light sleeping together is important for all of the characters and their development. And, Mello is a sexy fuck. Try and write a fic with him in it without him just getting maddddd ass. Try. You can't? I know, I know.

Next chapter- Matt shows up (!), we learn more about Near, there's more sex, and Light goes off on L. Probably. What type of 'going off' has yet to be determined. Oh yah, I went there. But probably the angry kind. :( Happy Holidays! Hopefully I can get y'all another update before Christmas, but I wouldn't bet on it. Chapter 4 is a big one, and I have a LOT of work this week. Retail's a bitch this time of year! But who knows, since I have all tonight + a bottle of wine.

REVIEW. It makes my heart happy. Really though, for serious. I need feedback, since I'm all anxiety and tears over this chapter. Thanks so much to my reviewers so far, I'm trying to figure out how to reply to you privately, but like, computers what? Inter...web? Huhhhhhh? So just know you're all awesome.


	4. Of Memories

Disclaimer- If I owned DN, there would have been riding crops used generously. Just. Saying.

L was depressed.

He didn't know if Light and Mello were still sleeping together, and he didn't care. He'd used the case as a reason to completely separate himself from the pair, seeing either Mello or Light- never the two together for the last week. He didn't want to know. He did, however, make sure that their jobs kept them up at completely different hours and fully occupied at all times. Better to be safe, and all that. He had made Mello particularly busy, citing their lack of current evidence in the Death Note killings to send the blond out to work the grounds on a new organized crime case all day and night.

If only the doctor didn't insist on being so…magnetic. That was the word exactly. Light was everything L wanted, and L couldn't resist his draw or resist wanting to be with him. It was pathetic and juvenile, but L had never billed himself as anything other than exactly that.

L sighed and turned back to the data, the precious little of it that they had. Whoever was controlling the Death Note was good. The victims were taken down seemingly without personal interest or vendetta, merely ridding the world of those universally thought of as unsavory. It was…interesting. It was even more disturbing. A pattern had emerged over the last week, with 25 people dying internationally a day and the count was already so high, L was feeling sick to his stomach like he had eaten too many leafy greens.

Light had been doing his best with Ryuk, but the death god wasn't actually of any known substance, they'd soon discovered, instead waving between solid and gaseous form at a whim. Light had lit up and immediately began muttering about multiple universes evolution and setting necessary experimentation parameters. L had rolled his eyes and left the man to it. L was clever enough and had done enough research on basic theoretical physics to follow him at the most basic of levels, but the actual math was beyond his attention span. Plus Light was horrible at explaining the actual math, he often second guessed himself mid-sentence and would then fumble helplessly for a pen that he somehow never had, so that he could write a new equation down.

If there was one thing that annoyed L about Light Yagami aside from his penchant for blonds in leather, it was his obsession with scientific procedures. L couldn't get so much as an off-handed conjecture from the man without him frowning and launching into a talk of variables and possible margins of error.

Part of the reason L was so interested in him was that when Light thought like L, like a detective instead of a scientist, he was remarkably insightful. Zoning in on L as L in the coffee shop had sealed it as far L was concerned- the man could be dizzyingly brilliant. But when that mind was in 'science mode', restricted by an institution that thrived on moments of insight, but then beat it out of its own practitioners by demanding their every thought be set to the mantra of 'hypothesis, test, conclusion- well then that mind annoyed L. L liked to skip the test phase, and jump straight to conclusion. After all, there was no reason to test what you knew was right if you were always right….right? Well, at least that was how it worked in the detective world.

L sipped his coffee, and glanced up as Mello walked in.

"Okay, I'm sick of this. What the fuck, L?" L merely stared at Mello. The blond had an annoying habit of starting conversations as though they were already in progress, and even though L knew what this was probably about, he still would have appreciated the man at least _trying_ to be polite.

"Don't even pull that look on me, you know exactly what you're doing, and exactly why you're doing it. If you wanted the kid, you should have spoken up. As it were, you didn't and we slept together. Grow the fuck up, and quit making him work bizarre hours just to keep us apart." L took a long sip, swirling the dark brew before answering. The blond in front of him was arguing for Light, but he himself looked worse for wear. He had lost a few pounds over the last two weeks, the way he always did when he was working undercover. L winced internally, and made a note to make Mello focus solely on his side case. Just because he was upset with the man didn't mean he wanted him worn out when beating the streets.

"I resent that you would imply after all these years, that you find me capable of compromising an investigation of this magnitude by a personal vendetta." Mello rolled his eyes. L also resented that Mello was right, but he wasn't admitting that to himself or the blond any time soon.

"And I resent you resenting my sex life." Mello crossed his arms over his chest childishly and L felt a rise of dislike for the man. Maybe another 110 hour week would do him some good.

"Mello, we have a very important investigation to get to, we don't have time for this." L stood and began to wash his cup, hoping Mello would just drop it for once.

"Yah, I'm aware of that L, hence why I've been doing work instead of pouting." Mello followed L, standing obstinately behind him as he talked. L sighed and placed his cup in the dishwasher.

"Fine, I will arrange it so that Dr. Yagami's hours are more suited towards his beauty sleep, are you happy?" Again with the eye roll. Couldn't the man appreciate it when L was about to do him a favor?

"Yes L, I'm thrilled. Glad to see you acting like a grown up for once." L calmly opened the fridge, pulled out an assortment tray of cakes, and slammed it down.

"I'm hardly the one you should be accusing of being immature, Mello. You didn't have to sleep with him, and you certainly didn't have to do it the second day you'd known the man. Grow up and quit sleeping around." L took a bite of cake. Vanilla, boring. Mello's piercing stare chilled L like ice as he ate, the blond going from irritated and tired to extremely pissed in a matter of seconds.

"Oh don't make this about me, L. You've never had a problem with me sleeping with whomever I want before, and you most certainly never cared about the timeline. I get it, you like Light. There's a lot there to like. But don't be a dick about it. First come, first serve." Mello leaned forward and grabbed the chocolate slice. L let him. That's why Watari always made sure there were two. L decided to change the subject, instead of arguing about who had claim to the young doctor. He knew Mello was right, and Mello was completely free to pursue Light, despite L's feelings. Didn't mean L had to like it. L decided a change of topic was for the best.

"Matt's coming." Mello's hand paused over the slice.

"…Why?" L glanced at Mello. The blonds' voice was hard.

"This is a large scale investigation Mello, I'm calling in all of our best. Would you be opposed to Matt's presence even though it could mean catching this killer?" L stared a Mello intently, trying to read the emotions rolling off the blond. He knew bringing Matt and Mello anywhere near each other was cause for a lot of yelling and probably some open weapon firing, if the pair's last encounter over 2 years ago was an indicator. But L did actually need the computer hacker, and Matt had seemed agreeable enough to the idea of working in a space also inhabited by Mello. Of course, Matt was usually agreeable to anything as long as it didn't keep him from his TV and latest toy, but that was irrelevant.

"When will he be here?" L met Mello's gaze.

"Tomorrow." Mello tsked and pulled out a chocolate bar, biting into it hard.

"Does he know I'm here?" Don't you mean, 'Does he care?' L thought.

"Yes." Mello nodded, and pulled his slice of cake away from the platter.

"And he agreed to come anyways?" L just nodded.

Mello frowned and turned away to process the information.

"Good. I'm looking forward to seeing him again." The icy tone of the blonds' voice spoke otherwise, and it was with a tight, angry stride that the blond left the room without another word.

L just dug into another slice of cake and wondered why everyone around him was crazy.

* * *

Light looked at the text message from 'unknown caller' that he had begun to associate with L in surprise. The small letters merely read '9 am'. It wasn't the ambiguity that bothered him, he'd been used to receiving merely times or locations for the last week since criminals had begun dying worldwide. No, it was the actual time that was off. 9 am? Since when did L operate on a normal person's schedule? Light considered the possibilities. He could have a full night's sleep! He could go running, actually cook himself dinner…get a haircut! Done. Done. Done.

Grinning a bit too gleefully, Light booked an appointment with his favorite hair stylist and settled down into his leather chair. It was only 1pm, but he'd been expecting to get called into whatever hotel L was staying at this week at any moment, and had been prepared to stay there until the late hours of the night. Light had actually only just woken up from his last round of questioning with the Death God. He cracked out his neck, more out of habit than necessity and wondered what had gotten into L to have changed Light's schedule so much?

Light's cell phone lit up, the same ringtone that it had come with blaring out of its miniscule speakers. Light's little sister Sayu kept begging him to change it, but he didn't see the point. It was all just to tell him someone was calling, there was no bother personalizing it. Light glanced at the number. Unknown. Hmm.

"Yagami speaking." A throaty chuckle met his greeting.

"Even the way you answer your phone is uptight. How are you Doctor?" Light felt warmth immediately spread through his groin at the dark voice. Though he'd barely seen the blond the last week, that didn't mean he hadn't been thinking of him. Their tryst had lit a long dormant spark of lust in Light, and over the last few nights the blond had starred in a few very dirty, but hardly satisfying fantasies.

"Yah yah, I have a stick up my butt and you're an asshole- this is hardly new discourse, what's up Mello?" Light could hear Mello's smirk.

"I love it when you get feisty. Tell me, did L change your hours?" Light blinked in surprise. Mello was behind that?

"Yah, just got the call. I'm not due in till 9am tomorrow."

"Good, do you already have dinner plans?" Light glanced at his kitchen, which hadn't been used in over 4 months. One more day wouldn't hurt.

"No. Why? Did you see a new movie and pick up a new move you have to test on me?" Again the chuckle. Light's pants were already tight by cut, Mello wasn't helping.

"Not exactly, dinner is a pretty standard affair between lovers." The heat from Light's pants expanded and moved into his stomach, where it curled like a nestling kitten near a hearth.

"Ah, so now we're lovers? But it's only been one time, and you didn't exactly call me after." Light wasn't sure where his playful tone was coming from, and he didn't care. Mello made him feel reckless and alive, and he'd sound stupid and flirty to be with the man.

"Well tonight will be twice. Be ready at 8." The line went dead.

Smooth bastard.

Light couldn't wait. But first, a haircut.

* * *

Mello hung up the phone and lay back on his bed, contemplating the young doctor. He was going to fuck Light's brains out, and then let Light do the same to him. It was going to be hot and messy and kinky as fuck, because Mello needed to release some of the tension that had been coiling in his stomach since hearing Matt was coming.

Fucking Matt.

Mello angrily turned over and punched the mattress, indulging himself in an angry fit the type of which he hadn't thrown in years. He was tired, dead tired. He had been working crazy hours, struggling to profile an unknown serial killer and deal a death blow to a major Yakuza ring all at once, and it was catching up to him. And now this? Now he had to deal with his estranged best friend?

Fucking L and his demands. Fucking Matt.

The last time he'd seen the man, it had ended badly. Badly meaning Mello had pulled his gun on Matt, pressed it to his throat, and warned him that the next time Mello saw Matt, he was going to end him. Mello had regretted that bit of theatrics over the last two years countless times, but he didn't regret the sentiment. He'd meant it and he was pretty sure he still felt the same way, even though he'd avoided thinking about the man at all costs.

It had been after Near's funeral, and Mello hadn't known how to deal with himself. There hadn't been a body to bury- it was long gone in the explosion. So instead of being able to say goodbye properly, all Mello could do was stare at that one picture they had left, taken years ago, and wonder why he felt so damn hollow, like an empty carafe- having poured out all of its good times long ago.

Near had been a presence for so long in Mello's life that he didn't know how to deal without him being there. He'd been Mello's rival, the ever present obstacle in front of Mello's path to greatness. But then they'd graduated. Mello had left for university and realized that being L wasn't the only thing out there for him. He hadn't even been sure if he still wanted the title. So he'd forgiven Near for being better than him. After all, L was better than him and he'd never minded. And so Near became an ally in Mello's mind, and that had never changed over the years of them working together.

And Near had seemed to like that, as far as Mello could tell. He'd even spent time alone with Near, once unthinkable, often playing chess or just idly chatting in between cases. Mello had grown fond of the younger man, even imagining that one day, when Near succeeded L, as Mello was sure he would, that Mello might just stick around and help him out.

But then had come that one stupid night with L.

Feeling frustrated and sick of going over the same facts, Mello had snuck into L's room and suggested they get wasted and laid. And L had agreed.

While L was busy changing into something not knitted, Near had approached Mello and asked exactly what he and the detective were up to. Mello had been pre-gaming with his flask and some highly distilled vodka, and answered something vague and crude about drinking and L and sex. Near's eyes had gone wide, and he'd left the room without another word. Mello hadn't thought much of it, the kid was always doing weird stuff like that.

So he'd gotten drunk with L. Much too drunk to pick up any company, so he'd made do with the attractive detective and had fun making out with him on the couch. It had been relatively innocent by Mello's standards, the blond being much too drunk to do much more than kiss. And once again Near had walked in on them, this time mentioning them getting a room. Laughing, Mello had pushed L away and pulled Near in close, asking if he wanted to join. The other man had colored and asked Mello to kindly let him go. So Mello had, and then grabbed and L and pulled him off into Mello's room where they had both passed out within minutes.

The next day, Near had presented his plan.

Mello and L had approved it on the spot, and then gone off to nurse their respective hangovers.

Ten days later, Near was dead, Watari was in the hospital with almost no chance of coming out of the coma, and L and Mello were alone.

Mello hadn't blamed himself for the bad plan getting through. He knew he and L had been hung over when it was first brought up, but even after coffee and Advil, it had seemed to be a good idea. Risky, but they'd gambled more before. Immediately after the explosion, even as they had waited on Wammy's prognosis, L had pulled Mello aside and told him that this wasn't their fault, and that he didn't want Mello to feel guilty. They were in a high risk profession. Deaths happened. Injuries happened. They had happened before, Beyond was long gone. No, Mello had felt empty- not guilty.

But then, after the funeral as Mello had stared at the picture, Matt had said it.

He'd looked Mello in the eyes and asked him softly if he felt guilty. Mello, unsure of what he had just heard, asked Matt to repeat the question.

He'd lit up a cigarette then and asked Mello again if he felt guilty while he puffed. Mello had just reacted. The gun had been pressed against Matt's throat before he could even think about it. And Mello had asked him softly why on earth he should feel guilty.

Matt had stared him dead in the eye and told him that he knew why and to stop playing dumb. Mello was the cause behind Near's plan after all. Mello had always been Near's reason for when he did something stupid.

Mello hadn't asked the other man to explain, instead feeling only the sharp burn of anger in his veins like a corrosive acid. Matt, his fucking best friend, was going to sit there and tell him that Near's death was his fault as he was mourning the man? Matt was going to sit there and blame this on Mello when he already felt so fucking horrible?

But he had been playing dumb. He should have known better, both he and L. The plan had been too risky, but they had been desperate and tired of the hard case. And Mello knew he should have never let Near go anywhere near the actual confrontation site. He knew it. He should have protected Near. That was what Matt had been saying. But Mello hadn't wanted to hear it. So he threatened to blow Matt's balls and head off if he came near Mello again, and then Mello had left for America for the next two months.

They had not been pretty months. Mello had gotten fucked up on anything he could find, smoke, or snort while knowing from his background in psychology that he was dangerously depressed. The thing about depression is that even when you know you have, you just don't give a fuck.

Mello slammed another fist into the mattress again, feeling the hot burn of shame and tears, spilling forth through the mental wall he'd constructed that had slowly began to crumble as he worked nonstop.

He'd let Near die. Sometimes, in his most self-loathing moments, he wondered if he'd subconsciously let Near go ahead with the stupid plan because some part of him still resented the boy for being better than himself.

Sometimes he wondered why on earth Near had taken such a risk at all. Had he wanted to prove himself to Mello? To L? Was that what Matt had meant, Mello wondered? Was it Mello's fault because he'd stopped acknowledging Near as competition?

But Mello always threw that possibility out every time his mind returned to it.

Near had never cared one way or another what Mello thought of him, or even L. He'd shown time and time again that he was above caring about the blonds' contempt or approval.

Near had never cared about Mello. And here was Mello, tearing himself apart over the boy, two fucking years later. He didn't even have a best friend anymore, thanks to the boy.

Mello huffed out a sigh and took a swig from his flask. The vodka burned and replaced emotional pain with physical. Mello focused on the burn, and just the burn.

He still wasn't sure what Matt had meant when he'd said Near's death was Mello's fault, but it didn't matter. Mello knew that it was true.

He only hoped Matt could forgive him- both for Near and for his funeral. So Mello buried his head into his pillow, smelling the ginger and vanilla he always sprayed into his hotel pillows, to remind him of home no matter where he and L happened to be living at. Ginger and vanilla. Matt and Near. One was gone forever, but Mello was determined to get the other one back no matter how much ass he had to kiss. So Mello took another shot and rolled out of bed, glancing at the clock. He was meeting with an important contact at 2:25, and a lot of shit was going to go down before he could return to romance Light. Pulling on black jeans and tucking his Glock into his back waist band, he slid a black shirt before grabbing his puffy jacket with the fur lined hood. That jacket had been through a lot with him, hopefully it could survive another rough outing. Mello stretched one last time, and went out to hit the Tokyo streets. He had shit to do, he'd worry about Matt and Near and his fucked up life later.

* * *

Light wasn't sure if being late was part of Mello's 'game' or if something had happened to the blond to make him tardy, but either way, without a call it was just rude. So when it reached twenty past eight, Light was relieved when his phone went off.

"Yagami speaking." Light jumped at the soft dark voice that responded. The detective sounded polite, but unusually distant as he spoke.

"Good evening Doctor. Unfortunately Mello is occupied presently, he informs me that he was to meet with you tonight and expresses his regret at being unable to do so. Since it appears your plans have been canceled, I would like you to please join us at our suite." There was a brief pause and Light heard Mello's voice and L push the phone away as he responded. "Mello requests that you indulge him by buying a 'metric shit ton of chocolate' in whatever form available." Light frowned. The blonds' voice had sounded strained, but perhaps that was just from being in the background.

"Of course. I'll be there in 35 minutes, tell Mello I'll have his chocolate." Light thought he heard a muffled shout of gratitude from Mello's rich voice before the phone disconnected on L's end. He grabbed his coat, sliding it on and wishing he had time to change. Not that his outfit was bad, quite the opposite, it was just going to be embarrassing showing L exactly how meticulously dressed he was to go out with Mello. Light had the sneaking suspicion the detective would give him another piercing and condescending look, before lightly commentating on Light's choice of hair product. Bastard. Light glanced in the mirror. Okay, maybe his hair dresser had gone a bit overboard on the mousse.

Light quickly marched out onto the drizzly Tokyo streets and headed out to the nearby 24 hour candy shop his younger sister often frequented, and had dragged Light into upon a few occasions. They weren't exactly stocked with gourmet treats, which was the only type of sweet Light could usually tolerate, but Mello wasn't particular about his chocolate in a pinch. Light glanced down the various stuffed aisles, unsure of how to proceed. Which is why it was to his relief when a perky salesgirl took one look at him, and then asked him if he needed help. Light merely handed over his basket and told her to fill it with as much chocolate as possible- and nothing but. She returned breathless and 10 minutes later with the most candy Light had ever seen. It was perfect.

Weighed down by enough chocolate to fill a bathtub, Light resumed his march to L's latest hotel room. The detective had originally stayed in his first one for quite a while, but had apparently taken on a side case while they struggled for clues regarding the Notebook killer, leading him to switch almost every day. Light wasn't sure what the new case was about, and he didn't ask. He knew it had something to do with the Yakuza from some distracted mutterings from Mello, but that was it. Light was more concerned with the research of the Death Note, which was becoming more and more abstract as the Death God revealed more of himself under Light's patient questions.

Light was beginning to consider insisting on L letting him use outside help. Genius though he may be, Light needed a second opinion on his math beyond the blank stares of the detective and Mello.

Entering the new hotel, Light took in the unusually modern décor. L had so far seemed to prefer hotels fashioned as closely to European sensibilities as possible, but this was sleek and modern with a Japanese flavor. Light liked what he saw as he crossed the expansive foyer, taking in the simple lines and basic wood and glass furniture.

He ascended to the highest floor without bothering to ask for one of the many aliases L penned his reservations under, relying instead on force of habit as he lugged the chocolate mountain in his arms. For one bitter moment, Light reflected that whatever it was that had made Mello need so much damn chocolate better be put aside so Light could at least get a blowjob. Seriously, Light had really been looking forward to getting laid.

He entered the suite with a knock, the door opening on its own under the force of Light's fist. That was when Light began to feel apprehensive. The door was always locked, padlocked, and card protected. L was not stingy with security.

Then he saw the blood. Mello was laid out on a long white sofa, boxy and uncomfortable looking and blood was everywhere. It was dripping down the man's stomach, flowing like small rivers down the various rises of his abdominal muscles and pooling into the dark, absorbent material of his black jeans. Light's eyes saw the wound on his shoulder, the grisly mass of dark, dried blood and torn ligaments that was leading to so much blood, but he couldn't process it. Mello was strong and loud, and didn't get shot. Why would L let him get shot? What in the hell could he have been doing to get shot?

"Hey kid." Mello's voice was rough, the words of his short greeting gritted out through closed teeth and harsh breaths. Light saw a pile of already blood soaked rags piled next to Mello and felt his stomach turn.

"What the fuck Mello?" Light dropped down next to Mello, pushing sweat blond bangs out of the man's eyes. He smiled softly at Light, and closed his dull eyes as Light's fingers gently brushed his forehead.

"It's fine. Bullet went straight through. Please…" Mello's voice cut off as he broke down coughing and Light stared at the man in slight shock, noticing how pale the blond was, how the sweat was pulling on his upper lip. He looked like shit.

"Get..L..Kitchen, more rags." Light nodded and rose, brushing a light kiss across Mello's forehead before all but running to the kitchen where L was scrubbing his bloody hands vigorously under running faucet water.

"Ah, Doctor. Please wash your hands with iodide and prepare to help. We can't afford to waste much more time, Mello is bleeding at a rate I don't like and I would really rather avoid taking him to the emergency room." Light just took L's place at the faucet, noticing how boiling hot the water was. L just quickly marched out of the room, and Light heard Mello's voice shout out from the next room.

"Mother fucking asshole son of a bitch, cunt born out of a cunt, fucking bastard I'm going to rip off his balls and feed them to him slowly while pushing his dick into a fucking cheese grater!" At least Light knew Mello was still conscious enough to cuss like a sailor, Light noted. Going back out, he thought they really should take Mello to the hospital, but he knew L would never go to a traceable institution if it could be at all avoided.

A man Light had never seen before wheeled out and asked L if he could assist. L shook his head and snapped at Light to grab him the gauze. The next thirty minutes were tense, with L throwing out directions without pausing his care to Mello's shoulder, expertly dressing the gaping wound with his long pale fingers moving quickly and surely. Light wondered how many times L had done this before to become so professional. It was a sickening question.

Finally, L was finished and left with a hiss to Light to get Mello to take the pain medication the blond had refused so far. Light moved in closer to Mello, taking the blonds' right hand in his and gently lacing his fingers the other man's. Mello smiled, closing his eyes.

"Mello, want some of your chocolate?" Mello nodded and Light pushed a piece of extra-high cacao content dark chocolate through, slipping a pill in along with it. Mello merely swallowed the offering without chewing, and Light tipped his head up so he could wash it down with some water.

"Thanks kid." Mello's voice was faint, but sounded more relieved than Light had heard it all night. He sat by the blond as he fell asleep, rising only an hour later; long after his legs had fallen asleep once Mello's breathing had evened out.

Entering the kitchen he heard muttered voices floating softly out.

"He took down an entire crime ring on his own tonight, he's fucking lucky he didn't get more than a shoulder wound and a few cuts up his back. I told him not to move tonight, dammit! He was supposed to wait for Aiber!" L's voice was rough and Light was shocked to hear the explicative.

"He was trying to finish up the case, L. You've been pushing him too hard for two weeks over a grudge, and he's been doing background work on this case for months. He just wanted to be done. Keep your criticisms down." The gentle British accent was the same as the man in the wheelchair and Light paused at the entrance, not wanting to disturb the two.

"I know Watari, I know. I just…I hate seeing him like that. I've already lost one of them, if I lost Mello…" L's voice trailed off and Light felt a pang of guilt in his stomach at the raw emotion in L's normally stoic voice. Light coughed softly, signaling his imminent entrance, and then entered a moment later to the two men sitting in quiet anguish. The dark shadows under L's eyes were more pronounced than ever, and he was nursing a large cup of black coffee, something Light had never seen him do before.

"Ah, Doctor. How is he?" Light eased himself into the room, still trying to wake up his sleeping leg and sat down in-between the unknown man and L.

"Sleeping. He took the pill, so he should be fine for a few more hours. I need some coffee, and then I'll go back to him." L passed him a fresh cup, sliding the healing liquid across the white table into Light's waiting hands.

"Good. Thank you for all your help, I know this isn't your case but I thought you should know considering…" L broke off and frowned at his own mug. "Considering how, ah, intimate you and Mello have become." There was a strange undercurrent to L's words, but Light was too tired to riddle out the detective's constant double meanings and true intentions.

"We're friends. Maybe more, but our first date was interrupted by him getting shot." Light shot an accusing look at L, who avoided his gaze.

"He knew what he was doing, and took the appropriate risks to bring a lot of bad men to justice. He's once again a hero, and I'm sure a few months in a sling will be worth it to him." L's voice was flat, but Light could tell the other man was unhappy with himself. _Good_, Light thought viciously. Even after hearing that Mello had moved more quickly than L had wanted, something that didn't surprise Light, he still wanted to blame the hunched detective for Mello's pain for some reason. Maybe because L was responsible for Light's life turning upside down already, he might as well add another charge against the detective.

"Doctor, I don't believe we have had the pleasure of meeting." Light turned towards the elder man in the wheelchair and gave an instinctive but weak smile.

"Ah, yes. I'm Light Yagami, pleasure to meet you circumstances aside." Light shook the other man's feathery and dry hand, as was the Western fashion.

"I'm sorry this is what finally brought me out, I'm usually hiding behind L's cameras. I had hoped to meet you at a happier time." Light smiled at the man a bit more widely. There was something extremely likeable to the older gentleman, a sense of scholarly wisdom lingered in his glasses covered eyes- the same feeling given off by Light's old professors.

"Now that we're all acquainted, I must return to my room and begin making calls. Without Mello as a field agent, I am going to need to requisition new help." L left the room without another word, and Light quickly finished his coffee to return to the sleeping blonds' side.

It was several hours later that Light fell asleep on the floor next to Mello, a chocolate bar at the ready in his hand.

Mello wake up to a world of pain screaming in his left shoulder. The deep gashes down his back ached, but were nothing compared to the wreck that fucking mobster had left of his shoulder. It made Mello want to cry, scream, and curse but instead he just croaked out one word.

"Light?" He remembered the smaller Japanese man tending to him and giving him chocolate. Also kissing. Mello could do with some of that. He flexed his right hand that Light had been holding throughout the night, and frowned when he didn't feel the familiar fingers in his. Well, fuck.

"He's sleeping. He was with you all night, according to L. But apparently the man doesn't do sleepless nights very well, so L sent him to bed around 7am. It's 10am now." Matt's voice was muffled around the unlit cigarette he had hanging out of his mouth, more for comfort than actual nicotine as L didn't let him light up in their hotels. Mello groaned and lowered his head back onto the firm coach cushion.

* * *

"When did you get in?" Mello hated how hoarse his voice sounded and reflected that it was probably the least pathetic thing about him at the moment. Great.

"Around 8am. L was watching you, and now it's my turn to babysit unless you want me to try and wake up your sleeping beauty." Mello shook his head slightly. Light didn't do sleep deprivation well at all, if the few cranky moments he'd caught with the doctor over the last two weeks were any indication. Best to let him sleep if Mello was going to get quality 'care' from the man later on.

"How're you?" Matt just grinned at Mello from the chair across the glass coffee table.

"Let's not worry about me for now. Do you need some more medication?" Mello gave a weak nod and Matt stood and walked over, pills in hand. "Open up." Matt dropped two pills into Mello's open mouth, following it by gently cupping the back of Mello's head and holding a glass of cool water to his chapped lips.

"Thanks." Mello murmured once he'd drunken his fill.

"S'what I'm here for, babe." Matt sat back down in his chair, leaning forward with elbows resting on his knees, watching Mello intently. Mello stared back.

"You don't hate my guts?" Matt chuckled.

"Nah, you're a little too pathetic for me to hate at the moment. Besides, I've missed you." The last statement was made with the same indifference Matt injected into all of his words, but it made Mello grin nonetheless.

"I've missed you too." Mello was too damn hurt to try to be coy at the moment. Besides, he had that whole honesty policy.

"Yah, I figured. L's great and all, but fuck it if he isn't a boring son of a bitch. You know you need me in your life to keep it interesting." Matt's voice had gotten smokier, Mello noticed. For some reason, that observation made Mello's whole body ache for the other man, a whining pain for the sheer stupidity and reckless behavior only the two of them could get into. All of the dumb jokes, all of the learned behaviors, all those years of being at each other's side, Matt and Mello against the world? How on Earth had Mello gone almost two fucking years without that?

"So what'd you bring me, fucker?" The old nickname rolled off Mello's tongue easily, and Matt chuckled dryly.

"You assume I brought you something? After you threatened me at gunpoint and made aspirations against my manhood before cutting off contact for almost two years?" Mello just stared at him, arching an eyebrow. "Yah, yah, you'll get your chocolate when you can sit up. For now, relax and tell me allllllllll about this new boy of yours."

"He's not mine yet." Matt shrugged, broader shoulders than Mello remembered moving under a dark black long sleeve shirt.

"Maybe not to you. I've seen his little chocolate gift basket of love he brought for you before he knew you were grievously injured, imagine what he'll do once he wakes back up…" Hopefully a blowjob, Mello thought.

"Hopefully a blowjob." Ah, being honest was really as refreshing as a cold class of champagne.

"I would not discount the possibility, although I suggest doing that after you've been moved to another room. I'm totally supportive of your right to bone men and all, but that doesn't mean I want to see it." Matt did not have the same reservations whenever Mello brought home girls, he'd noticed.

"Matt…I've really fucking missed you." Matt nodded sagely, and his goggles fell from their perch on his messy head into his eyes. He tried to play it off as intentional, but Mello just laughed at him.

"Same here buddy. Same here." And just like that, they were fine. Mello still didn't know exactly why Matt had blamed him for Near's death, but he didn't care. He'd deserved to blamed, anyways. All Mello knew at the moment was that he was tired, in pain, and didn't want to 'man up' just yet. He just wanted to lie on the stupid uncomfortable couch he'd managed to collapse on before yelling for L last night, and enjoy the presence of his best friend at his side. So Mello did just that.

* * *

Light ran fingers through his recently shortened hair and laid his head down on his forearms. He was reading his way through the latest physics papers released over the last six months and there was a lot of shit to get through. Some of it was intriguing, and he was trying to coalesce his own observations about the Notebook into existing theories for his upcoming presentation of the Notebook to the international community. He was extremely intrigued by the latest quantum models depicting the current universe as existing within a wormhole that was contained within an even larger universe, there was a lot of potential there. However, moving it beyond math to the actual practical application of the Death Note was torturous, and he was missing Tzuki and his enthusiasm for doing equations while Light sat back and theorized.

He heard Mello and Matt laughing in the living room, and considered throwing down his work and joining them. When he had first met Matt two days ago, he had been slightly shocked by the lanky man hanging all over Mello with an unlit cigarette in his lips. Mello had been able to sit up at that point, and was playing some loud videogame with one hand, his other trapped in ridiculously tight sling. He had felt a slight flash of jealousy at the sight, and wondered if Matt wasn't Mello's permanent lover, while Light had been merely a distraction for the time being. That sort of arrangement wouldn't surprise Light in the slightest, and seemed to be exactly in Mello's character.

Then Matt had made a very lewd joke at Light's and Mello's expense and had offered to ensure the sitting room was kept empty should Light want to play 'naughty nurse'. Once the burning in Light's cheeks had gone down, he had been able to politely inquire about Matt and Mello's history and soon discovered that they were old friends, since childhood- and nothing more. Matt was actually actively involved in dating at least 3 women and had bored Light and Mello with his complaints about all of them. Since then, hanging out with the two of them had become one of Light's favorite pastimes. The two were the kind of friends he'd never had growing up, both brilliant and able to stimulate Light with the most ridiculous of conversation. Aside from their habit of lapsing into English and using obnoxious nicknames that were often profane or blithely sexual in nature, they were great fun.

Light was just getting up to demand a turn on Mario Kart, probably against Ryuk since that was the only person/Death God he stood a chance against, when L slid in.

He was carrying another cup of black coffee and wordlessly prepared Light one. Light accepted it with a murmur of thanks and turned back to his papers.

"How is it going Doctor? I hope well, I would like to present the Death Note as soon as possible." Light nodded and leaned back in the wooden chair, stretching out. He didn't notice L's eyes watching his muscles flex, instead having his eyes closed to enjoy the feeling of sinew moving under his increasingly pale skin.

"It goes. Not well, not poorly. It's just…going." L nodded and studied Light with his wide dark eyes. Light matched his gaze with one of his own, studying how poor L looked. He had been getting increasingly pallid and sleep deprived as Mello had been reduced to doing nothing more complex than running basic numbers and searches one handedly. He knew Matt was helping out, but Mello was L's partner more than anyone else and the computer hacker had his own work without taking up Mello's slack. Light would help out, but he was tied up in his own work and didn't think he was made for Mello's type of work anyways, seeing as the blond seemed to be L's hands and guns along with being his psychology expert. He had yet to get the full story on how Mello had gotten shot, knowing only it was related to the massive amount of Yakuza that had been caught and delivered to the NPA the same night Mello went down. The blond was closed lipped about it, and Light had been too busy taking care of Mello's other needs to really push the point.

"Well, we can hope it goes more quickly in the future. I…" L glanced away from Light, frowning instead at the refrigerator. "I would like to return to my home base shortly. Mello needs to be better taken care of, the extent of the damage that was done to his rotator cuff can only be completely healed with surgery and I have such resources there." Light nodded, having expected this to come up sooner. Mello was back to pretending to be a hard ass now that the pain had gone down, and he was on a regular morphine pills, but he was in shit shape.

"I have actually been considering that, and was wondering…" L stared at Light blandly, and Light flushed, unused to asking such things. Especially so he could remain close to a man. It was embarrassing, and L's piercing stare was not helping. "You once offered me a position under you." L's eyebrows raised, and Light was struck with the impression that the man looked like a shocked panda.

"I wasn't under the impression you were much impressed by that _position_, Doctor." Light took another sip of his coffee.

"I wasn't. I'm not used to being under anybody else…" Light trailed off as he realized exactly where he had gone wrong in the conversation and exactly why L was smirking at him. He had been practicing his rusty English for days now in preparation for asking L for the job, and hopefully his consequent move to England. But if Matt and Mello had taught him anything it was that English was riddled with sexual innuendos, and apparently he had just walked himself into one.

"I mean, I'm not used to…" L's grin had widened and he moved forward and perched on the chair next to Light. Fuck him, Light decided. He could play this game.

"I'm not used to being under anyone, L. It's not something that _excites_ me." L pressed a thumb to his smiling lips before responding.

"Ah, but I'm a generous man to be under, Light. I can take care of _all_ of your needs." Oh goddamn him!

"I can take care of my own needs, L." Light snapped out without thinking. L arched an eyebrow and Light met his stare evenly. He was going to stand behind his words, no matter how embarrassing they were.

"That is something I would quite like to see, Light-kun." The back of Light's neck was beginning to warm, and he felt a flash of arousal in his stomach. Not because of L, no, just because…Because Light was always horny and Mello was incapable of handling his needs at the moment. Yes. The fact that he also liked the way L had said his name, mixing the Japanese honorifics with the English interpretation of his name was also having nothing to do with the tightening of his slacks. Really.

"Me too." Mello's dark honey voice floated in from the entrance to the small kitchenette and Light turned to look at him. Dressed in only a low slung pair of sweatpants, the man's gorgeously hard abdomen was on full display, perfectly sculpted muscles inviting Light to stare. Except if he went any higher…Light winced at the familiar red tinged band aids that preceded a tired face and limp blond hair.

"The point is L, is the offer still valid?" Mello moved further into the room, sitting down in the other chair next to Light and letting out a harsh hiss of pain as he went. Light just leaned over and lightly began rubbing his back in small, gentle circles.

"Yes, doctor, it is." Light nodded and got up to get Mello his drink and lunch.

"Then I would like to take you up on it. I have received word from my superiors that the Notebook is to be released into your custody as is the wish of Interpol. They have also expressed a sincere interest that Japan have as little involvement beyond this point as possible, for fear of taking the blame from other nations for the Kira killings. I'm afraid they want me to return to only police investigations and forgo any work on the Notebook. I don't want that." L nodded and Mello laid into his sandwich one-handedly.

"In that case, we can prepare to leave the country as early as two days from now. Mello, I'm going to go ahead and send you tonight with Matt, Linda will patch you up properly." Mello nodded and continued eating.

"Now Doctor…Let's talk about those needs of yours." Oh fuck, what had Light just done?

* * *

Author's Note- So I was happily well into Ch. 5 when I realized I hated everything I'd written. I mean, I didn't hate it. It was really funny, and really cute. And really not this story. I was much too happy and sober when I wrote it, basically. So I cut everything and started over and I'm now really happy with this chapter. No, L and Light haven't gone at each other in any sense yet, but its coming. Next chapter is fucking huge guys. Fucking huge. Also, I did mention that I am a working girl, and when I'm not working, I'm driving home to visit my parents and then doing stuff with them. So, not a huge amount of writing time, but tomorrow I'll get on Ch. 5.

Thanks for reading, please review. Seriously the hits vs. reviews tally makes me a little depressed, and I love hearing from you guys so I can make this story better.

My next update might be a one shot I'm working on, but either way something should be up in a week or so, so keep on checking!

Ciao babes!


	5. Of Revelations

Disclaimer- If I owned Death Note, Matt would have spoken more. And dressed in less.

* * *

Mello wandered the halls of his childhood home, groping along the wooden paneling on the walls to balance himself. Linda had warned him against walking too quickly after surgery, but he was going crazy with restlessness and needed to stretch his legs at least once if he was going to endure the rest of his 'recovery' period. He had arrived in Britain 4 days ago, and immediately been put under the knife. Linda had done her best, and his prognosis was so far good. There were benefits to working for L, and one of them was that when you got royally fucked up in the line of duty, you could usually be put back together- often by some of the most talented people in their fields. Mello couldn't count the numbers of times he'd had his teeth put back in by a now famous dentist that had originally come from Wammy's, or the number of scars he'd had removed by a similarly prolific plastic surgeon that now resided in L.A.

Mello himself provided the same services for his fellow Wammy housemates, taking them shooting or riding on his Harley or whatever while he unraveled the problems of their psyche. He was always particularly busy during exam time for the kids, usually taking the whole month off to put back together the stressed out kids while L oversaw simpler cases that didn't need the blond or his gun to solve.

Mello sighed. He and his gun were going to be resting for a while, it seemed. Sometimes in his meaner moments he considered getting L to have the man who'd shot his shoulder released into their custody so Mello could return the favor- repeatedly. But that was 'immoral' or something, and Mello couldn't hold a gun straight with his left hand anyways. At least he'd get plenty of practice now.

Sliding into the bright kitchen with its forever-lit bright fluorescents, Mello began to rummage through the adult cabinet, quickly finding his hidden stash of Chocovine.

Yes, it was a girl drink.

Yes, it had 400 calories a glass.

Yes, Mello fucking loved the stuff.

The Dutch desert wine was one of Mello's guiltiest pleasures, and he only drank it when he was sure no one was around to make fun of him. Mello was secure about himself, but he still didn't like to offer up fodder for mocking if he could avoid it. Besides, he touted himself as a vodka man- which for the most part he was. He'd drink Wammy's whiskey when offered, because the man had excellent taste, but usually he avoided straying too far from vodka unless he was undercover and needed to play the part. Wine was usually too bitter for his tastes, unless it was this.

Chocolate wine. Yum.

"Oh are you fucking kidding me right now?" Shit. Mello hadn't noticed Matt drop in.

"Shut the hell up if you like your balls where they are." Matt just laughed and helped Mello pop the cork out of the bottle. His one handed attempt had not been going well, despite his intense concentration which had let the other man slip in unnoticed in the first place.

"You know, I always wondered who hid this stuff. I thought it might be you, but you seemed more like a chocolate vodka kind of man." Mello shook his head.

"Nah, I prefer my vodka to burn cleanly. Now this stuff…" Mello took a long sip of his newly poured glass. "This is just plain indulgence." Matt chuckled.

"Mind if I try?" Mello waved him on, and Matt poured a glass, looking at it interestedly. Matt was much more of an alcoholic than any of the other Wammys still left from their class, and Mello thought it was because Matt regularly dated the craziest people out of all of them. His current situation of juggling three different girls spread out of 2 different continents was hilarious for Mello and stressful for Matt. Still, put no price on good pussy and all that. "You know, I can't tell the quality of the wine by the legs, because it's just looks like chocolate milk…" Mello rolled his eyes.

"Just drink it fucker." Matt scoffed but obeyed Mello, looking pleasantly surprised as he went. "Damn, have you let L try this? I don't think we'd ever see him sober again…" Mello laughed, remembering exactly how entertaining L was when drunk.

"Nah, I got him fucked up on buttery nipples once and now he doesn't trust me to pick out drinks." Matt leaned in for a high five, and Mello indulged him. They'd never be too old to act like frat boys, he mused as he nursed his drink. Despite Linda's warnings that if he drank he wouldn't be able to have his pain pills for a while, he felt he'd made the better choice. Matt and Mello both sipped their wine in silence for a few moments, before Matt broke their ease with a too-casual tone.

"Yah, Near told me about that. Did you…ah, did you actually sleep with him?" Mello looked up sharply, staring at Matt hard. The other man was staring determinedly into his glass of wine, purposefully not meeting Mello's eyes. Mello narrowed his eyes and decided that it had probably very hard for Matt to ask that question, knowing the other man's pacifist nature and general awkwardness. About as hard as it was going to be for Mello to squish the rising rage inside of him.

"The fuck? No. Near…Near what? How did you even talk to him? That was only ten days before…" Mello trailed off, taking a larger swig of wine to ease the sharp ache in his stomach. Near and Matt had talked about that? What else had they talked about? Mello hadn't even known they were in contact.

"He called me pretty upset after you two disappeared off to your room. He thought you two were fucking and well…" Matt trailed off and shrugged, stealing Mello's bottle of wine to refill his glass. Mello couldn't process what Matt was implying. Had Near…liked L? Seriously? Had he been jealous of Mello? Really,_ L_? _Why? _Mello indulged himself a moment to picture that scene and barely held back his shudder. Ugh, too much pale skin.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck are you saying exactly Matt? That Near had something for L and created his plan to what, woo the man with his brilliance? And it was my fault for making him jealous by being a dead sexy drunk?" Matt stared at him, brown eyes widening in surprise. It was rare Mello saw Matt exhibit any emotion beyond amusement and indifference and it marked the moment as significant in Mello's mind.

"No, dumbass. I'm saying Near had a thing for _you_." Mello felt liked he'd been punched. There was a twisting ball of emotion in his stomach, and vehement denial was the only thing that was going to make it go away.

"…That's not possible." And it wasn't. For his entire life, Mello had chased after Near like a psycho. He had constantly watched the other boy hawkishly, taking note of his ever habit and every grade with a fierce determination. He had known Near's every move, and Near hadn't once noticed him. Mello thought that had been what had gotten under his skin the most. Near had just been so damn content in his first place position, never working as hard as Mello and never caring that Mello might one day surpass him. Even after Mello had agreed to play nicer with the newly-minted man, he had still ignored Mello.

So Mello had teased him, a little, in between cases for old time's sake. Of course with much less venom than he used to inject, but still. And Near had _finally_ reacted. Near had blushed, stuttered out poor insults, once even threatened to kick Mello's ass if he didn't lay off…it had been hilarious. Mello had laughed right in Near's face before wrapping an arm fondly around the younger man's shoulders after L had room in disgust at their 'childish antics'. He recalled murmuring into Near's ear that the kid wasn't half bad. Near had thrown off Mello's arm and blushed deeply, called Mello an 'intolerable ass' softly and stomped flat-footed out of the room to a chorus of Mello's raucous laughter. Mello might have been a little drunk then, he wasn't sure, the memory was a bit hazy. So definitely drunk then.

But even then, Mello hadn't felt properly acknowledged by the younger man. Sure, he could get under Near's skin enough for the younger man to hiss out insults against his passive nature, but that was it. There had certainly never been romance.

Not that Mello had ever looked for any. Near had never struck him as having any sexual inclinations, instead preferring to entertain himself with models or books instead of people.

"Near…Near didn't care for me Matt. He never did. Not at school or after university…he never even took me seriously as a threat, and now you want me to believe he actually harbored some ill-begotten love for me? Come on. " Matt shook his head again, and Mello dipped his fingers in his wine, flinging the liquid at the man in a brief impulse of childish spite. Matt stared at him for a moment before sighing.

"And that is why I still have my goggles." Mello shrugged. He was charming, well-educated, gorgeous, and had the tongue talents of a Parisian call-girl. It was too much to expect him to be mature as well.

"Look, Mello, ever since we were kids you've been chasing Near. And Near never really cared beyond the fact that you were one of the only people who actually talked to him. For someone like Near, you were always important- he considered you a friend. Obviously he didn't understand friendships very well, but that's what you were. But after you came back, it was different for him. You were nice, you were handsome and I don't know, I guess he had finally hit puberty. The point is, he fell hard for you. And quite frankly, I'm not so sure you didn't spur it on." Mello gave an indignant sound and Matt held up a hand to quiet him. "No, Mello, listen. You're a flirt. You flirt with everyone- whether you mean it sexually or not. Hell, you flirt with me when you want to get your way, and I'm probably the most immune person on this planet to you charms. You widen your eyes, talk sweet, let out a ringing laugh and have anyone in the palm of your hand as soon as you want them. And let's face it, you wanted Near in the palm of your hand. So even though you acted like an ass to him half the time for tradition's sake" Mello winced. It had been funny! "Don't you even expect me to believe the other half of the time you weren't wooing him in your own special way to just to prove to yourself that you could make even Near himself like you."

"I resent so many things about what you just said that I can't even begin to process how many times I need to bitch slap you." 7, Mello decide to himself. 7 times. On each cheek.

"Aren't you the one always going on about how we resent most the criticisms that ring the truest?" Mello felt a pang of some undefined emotion bubbling up from his stomach. He felt cowed by the accusations because they were setting alarm bells off in the back of his head, the same part that warmed up and flushed his cheeks when he felt guilty. That he had purposefully led Near on? Never. Mello could have wined and dined near at the other boy on a private yacht at sunset with a string quartet and Near would probably have responded with "That's nice."

"Matt…he didn't. He didn't want me." There was a begging note in Mello's voice that he hated himself for, but he felt desperate. Near couldn't have wanted him, because if he had and now he was gone…

Mello couldn't think about that.

Matt just finished his glass and stared at the now dirty glass for a few moments. Mello had just turned back to his racing thoughts when Matt's soft voice interrupted him.

"Believe what you want, Mello." Matt stood up and slipped a cigarette out of his pocket and into his teeth, lightening it up with a match lit by scratching it alongside the rough granite tabletop they had been sitting at. Mello just watched him silently. Near had cared.

Dammit.

* * *

L stared at the computer screen in front of him, eyes quickly scanning the graphs put before him. He was trying to find any bias whatsoever that could give him a clue to the new notebook user's location and was so far being met with nothing but dead ends. Light was at the far end of the room, talking quietly with Ryuk about something or the other. L had tuned them out after watching Light try the apple pie the Shinigami and Watari had made earlier before the scientist's arrival. It had been amusing to watch Light politely accept the proud Death God's offering while trying not to shake with fear and apprehension. The panic in Light's eyes had tickled L and he had chuckled softly as Light bit into the pie slowly, probably expecting to drop dead at any moment. L knew from experience that the pie was actually quite delicious and non-deadly, but he didn't see why he needed to share that information with Light. Grinning a bit a now at the memory, L once again resumed his typing, setting different parameters into the program of his own design that Matt had brought to life. Simply put, he was trying to find places that had access to all of the information the killer seemed to have access to. This was hard, because it seemed any place with a good broadband could be considered fair game. So he'd tried to see if there was an unusually high amount of criminals being killed in a particular country, but so far he was at a draw.

When L thought about it, the Death Note really was the perfect weapon. It was a notebook, perhaps even without the damning title written on it like Ryuk's. There really was absolutely no way to trace someone writing down names in a notebook, especially if they sought out extra protection to keep their actions concealed. And with this lack of bias, this apparent divine judgment that rang out equally on all countries? It was horrible.

L was beginning to contemplate using smoke out techniques, applying pressure to make this murderer reveal himself. But where to start…?

"L?" L glanced up as his name was called softly in English, with Light trying his best at the soft British accent L and Watari shared. Though Light's formal education in English had all been with American pronunciations, the man preferred and seemed to have an easier time with the British accent. He was beginning to get so good that even L could barely detect the traces of Japanese left in his speech.

"Yes Doctor?" Light smiled softly and moved forward from his self-exile in the corner to sit down on the plush sofa across from L. L watched him come, noticing the subdued and perfectly executed faux submission. Light was carrying himself with the smallest hint more of humility, just a touch to loosen L up. He was going to ask for something.

He could go suck it.

"I was wondering…" L turned away from the beguiling amber gaze that Light had seen fit to embrace the detective with, thinking that if he didn't have to see Light's perfectly mastered puppy dog eyes that he could resist whatever was about to come out of those sinfully sculpted lips. It was really rather unfortunate that L had such an attraction to his newest employee, because if Light knew how to work L the right way he could probably make the detective sign away his entire fortune with just a pleading glance. Which is why L had kept to himself over the last four days without Mello and Matt, and intended to keep it that way until they reached Wammy's.

"I was wondering if we could talk." L blinked a bit in surprise. Out of the requests he had been anticipating ever since hearing his named called out softly and politely, that hadn't been one of them.

"Of course Doctor." A small bit of tension left the younger man's shoulders and he gracefully dropped down into the chair next to L. L watched as Light seemed to pull in on himself a bit, wrapping his toned arms around his left knee to pull it into his chest- uncharacteristic for the young man who always sat with a straight back and proud manner. There was a bit more genuineness to Light's current humility that L had initially assessed then. Interesting.

"The Notebook…do you ever want to…try it out?" Light's words were soft and irregularly paused, and he glanced downward as he spoke. It was obvious this was a very discomforting moment for the man, and L felt a brief flash of charity towards his companion flare up.

"Light before I answer, I want to know, why do you refer to it as 'the notebook'?" L bit his thumb as he watched Light mull over his answer. The detective had begun to notice the particular speech habit before Ryuk had brought it up more than a week and a half ago, but it had become even more obvious since then. So had the doctor's distaste of actually speaking about the Death Note in non-scientific terms.

"I…I don't know. I guess it was because I personified it during the time I was working with it. It seemed to have its own agenda, a malevolent will if you want. After we discovered Ryuk, I thought maybe that I'd just been sensing him all along, but that's not it." The younger man was staring past L, his eyes unfocused. L felt an ache to walk over and comfort him, maybe rub his back in small circles. Light looked younger than he was when he let his guard down and L wondered for a moment what the man had been like as a teenager.

"It makes me want to use it, L. I know…I know Ryuk said it does that, but it doesn't seem to get to you and Mello and it just makes me feel…weak." Light's words rushed forth, tripping over themselves in a hurry to get out as though the man wanted to speak before he lost his nerve. "I get tense around it, and I just feel bad. I feel like I want to try it and that kills me because I'm not the kind of person who goes around wanting to kill people!" He threw his head back against the couch, breathing slightly heavier and looking wretched. L felt uncomfortable. He was not his best around other people, and especially around other people with problems. More so when they were beautiful men who were now technically under L's own employ.

L wanted to walk over and comfort the man, gently cup his face and tell him that he was going to be alright. But L was a coward with other people, forever hiding behind Wammy as a youth and Mello now that the other man was older. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. L hated that most of all. He always had a plan, a decisive action, but here he was drawing a blank.

"Doctor…" Light chuckled, and L winced at the self-deprecation hidden within the soft pressed out laugh.

"You think I'm an idiot, don't you?" Amber hair was shaken out of place as Light shook his head ruefully. "I mean you must, both you and Mello are leagues ahead of me. And neither of you seem to care about the Notebook, meanwhile it's been tearing me apart…" Light seemed to collapse in on himself, drawing his other leg up and wrapping his arms around both before laying his head down on his knees.

"I think nothing of the sort, Light." Light's head lifted at the use of his first name, and L met his eyes. "There are differences between Mello and myself and you that might make you more susceptible to the Death Note's appeal, but those are no faults on your behalf." L walked forward and placed his hand gently on Light's shoulder, standing next to him but facing the opposite wall. Somehow, it was easier this way to continue, with just a small bit of physical contact instead of looking at the other man.

"Both Mello and myself have killed with our own hands. We have dangerous jobs and lives, and have been forced to utilize extreme measures' more than once. But more than that… I'm not sure if you've been informed, but the headquarters we will soon be heading to is based out of an orphanage. It is the same one Mello and myself grew up in. From your background check, I saw that not even your grandparents have passed." Light shook his head softly and L squeezed his shoulder with the barest of touches. "We grew up in death, and you have yet to see it for yourself. It is hard to know the realities and implications of that which you have not experienced; therefore the power of it is more tempting because it is more of an unknown. Mello and I have watched our companions, our _friends_, die. We know what a double edged sword death can be. Light…" L turned sharply, moving his hand from Light's shoulder to the strong edge of Light's jaw, grabbing the face and forcing Light to look up at him. Amber eyes widened in surprise and L stared deeply into them, trying to show the man what he saw, the perfection and the beauty and the absolute genius that was Yagami Light. "You are the best of us, so you are the most tempted to fall. I will save you from that fall, no matter what. You don't have to worry when you're with me." He ran a pale thumb across Light's cheek and the younger man's skin heated up with a blush.

"Thank you L." Light breath ghosted over L's wrist and L suppressed the tremor that ran through him as the warm air caressed his skin.

"Always, Light. I will always protect you."

* * *

Light's head was swarming. His skin kept tingling where L's thumb had rested only moments before, only to be interrupted by a loud ringing in the pocket of his baggy jeans. The phone had rung once, twice, before L had pulled away and moved over to the other side of the room to answer it leaving Light alone and feeling horribly conflicted.

What the hell had just happened?

L's voice was rising over in the corner and Light blocked it out to focus on the rollercoaster that his insides had become. L had…

L had made Light want to bury his head into L's neck and let him take all of the doubt away. Let those surprisingly strong arms wrap around him and squeeze every ounce of self-doubt that had pervaded Light's thoughts since coming into contact with the Notebook.

He wanted L to take away the ache of unfulfilled potential that had plagued Light ever since he started working with the detective and Mello. Watching the two of them was to see everything he could have become and to know that genius or not, he just wasn't as educated or practiced as the other two. He wanted L to save him, admire him, be with him- and it was confusing as hell. And what about Mello?

Light glanced at his phone that hadn't lit up since the blond had disappeared off to England. He'd expected to not from hear from him much in the days immediately following the surgery, but it had been almost 5 days since Mello and Matt had left for headquarters. Light was actually feeling a little sore toward the blond for the lack of contact, was that the reason he wanted nothing more than to go lose himself in L?

And what was L's intention anyways? Was he merely being a good employer, a comforting friend or… more?

Light was pulled from his contemplation as L snapped his phone shut with vehemence.

"Doctor, I asked you to prepare yourself to move 3 days ago, have you?" Light nodded in response, a bit taken back by L's now sharp tone.

"Please go and retrieve your bags and meet up at Tokyo International within the next hour. Watari and myself will join you there." L reopened his phone and began to dial in earnest, turning away from Light and effectively dismissing him.

Light disentangled himself from the chair and moved out, tapping his own phone to activate the screen and dial his childhood home.

* * *

After all, they would probably want to hear from him before he left the country for who knows how long.

Matt stared out at the dark lawn, a sharp wind cutting against him and through his clothes. The perfectly manicured grass rustled as the air danced through it, making a bristling sound that Matt chose to focus on instead of the headache that was building at the back of his neck from his conversation with Mello.

Re-examining what he knew now, Mello's reaction the last time they had talked about Near made sense. If the blond had really been unaware of Near's affections, then Matt's statements had probably seemed to be accusatory rather consolatory like he'd intended. Matt was pretty sure of that anyways. He really wasn't the best with communication that wasn't done through typeface, and sometimes Mello boggled him with his reactions. When he'd talked to Mello at Near's funeral, he'd been trying to convince Mello that it wasn't his fault Near's plan had gone wrong- even if he had been the motivation behind the plan. Wasn't that obvious?

Matt lit up another cigarette and took a long puff. Sometimes being Mello's friend was hard. Mello kind of steamrolled over those who weren't on his level of communication, and he often mistook the awkwardness in his contemporaries for intended slights when really it was just social incompetence. He'd seen the start of anger when he'd asked Mello about L, but the blond had apparently reconsidered whether Matt was insulting him. Matt, for his part, only very rarely chose to call Mello out on his inappropriate behavior, mostly because he really just didn't care. Mello could be a dick sometimes, but that was just Mello.

He flicked the burnt off butt of his cigarette onto the cobblestone patio beneath his feet and ground it in with his rubber boot heel. Turning to move back inside the warmth of Wammy's, he paused as he saw a white light reflected in the glass doors dividing the back lawn with the library. He watched the light bob and weave, growing larger. Curious, Matt turned around to see the source. Maybe one of the golf carts and some mischievous teenagers out way past curfew?

Turning, Matt was able to see the source clearly, too clearly for what must be a delusion.

"Near?" The white haired man merely walked closer and Matt pinched himself to make sure he was actually seeing what he was seeing.

"Hello Matt." The voice was soft, as soft and quiet as Matt remembered.

"Hey…I'm…I'm going to call L." Near nodded, white tendrils dropping into charcoal eyes.

"That's probably for the best."

* * *

Author's Note- This is a shorter chapter than I'm used to uploading, but it's extremely dialogue and emotion heavy so I cut it here. I just really wanted to get this out of the way before they all get to England and the plot picks back up, so hopefully you like it. I for one am pretty pleased with certain parts of this, and my gurl, bestofbothworlds, can probably guess which parts. BTW, she is my awesome beta and heterosexual life partner IRL so go and check her out if you like Inuyasha related fics.

Other than that, I have a new fic up called "Good Cop Bad Cop" which I really love. It's very different from this story, but just as much fun to write and I get to explore a different side of Light in it. Also, that one is unique in that it is almost exclusively limited to L and Light's perspective and story. It's almost more tonally similar to original to the original DN I think, because it's going to delve into intrigue and mind games. So definitely please check it out if you enjoy my writing.

Please review! It helps me write to get positive feedback, and even constructive criticism. Unfortunately, updates are probably going to slow down to twice a month due to school starting back up but hopefully I can get them out a little faster than that. Thanks for reading!


	6. Of Pain

Disclaimer- If I owned Death Note, don't you think strip poker would have happened? I mean really. Everyone wins there.

* * *

Near stood at the entrance to the dimly lit library and stared at the blond that was wrapped around himself letting out small whimpers. Matt was on the phone outside with L and chain smoking a pack with a shaky hand.

It wasn't as though the reaction was unexpected, but still Near felt awkward by the bug-eyed stare Matt had been treating him to, so he had left.

And found Mello.

Another whimper and Near took a small step forward. He really shouldn't…

Glancing around himself, Near took in all of the details. There were two empty bottles of Chocovine, Mello's favorite wine, settled next to him on the couch. Matt's breath had smelled faintly of alcohol, but not enough to indicate that he'd made a significant dent in Mello's wine. That meant that Mello had most likely drunken most of the offending beverage.

A soft gasp and another whimper. Near stared at the blond's hunched back and wondered what exactly it was he was doing to cause himself to make such…noises…

"Fuck!" Near quickly took his step forward back as he scooted away at the raw gasp that had left Mello's mouth. Oh how he really hoped this wasn't going to be a repeat of the last time he walked in on Mello making those kinds of noises.

But he was alone this time, so surely he couldn't be..?

Oh wait, he was talking about Mello here. The boy who had, at age 11, informed Near exactly what "go fuck yourself" means. He had even drawn a diagram.

Near had been sure the blush would never again leave his cheeks after that.

And if Mello was drunk, which Near strongly suspected he was, then he probably wouldn't mind the idea of tending to a very personal need where a child might walk in.

Wincing at what he might about to be witness to, and wincing even more at the knowledge that the idea did turn him on a little, Near walked forward and lightly rested his hand on Mello's left shoulder.

"Matt?" The voice was soft and strained.

"Ah…" Near frowned. Mello had both hands where he could seem them and he was curled tightly into a ball with no suspicious activities to be seen. The back of his neck was dampened with sweat and the back of his black tank top was clinging to his taut torso, indicating Mello was flushed all over.

"Hurts bad, Matt." Suddenly Mello rolled over with his eyes squeezed shut and a grimace scrunching up his face. Near stared at the crimson seeping through the bandages that covered the blond's shoulder, immobilized by layer upon layer of gauze.

Near knew he should help Mello- the blond looked pale and strained and was obviously out of sorts.

He was also more beautiful that Near could have possibly remembered.

The gold in his hair shimmered brightly in the moonlight straining through the curtains, and even pale with pain his skin was still smooth and inviting looking. His perfectly sculpted lips were an irresistible pink from where he'd been biting them, and swollen from the same treatment.

He looked the way Near had always imagined he would after…

Well just after.

"Mello…" Mello cracked open an eye and Near's felt his stomach clench at that flash of bright blue. He'd missed those eyes.

"Ah fuck, I'm so drunk I'm hallucinating. Great. Where the fuck is Matt?" He struggled to sit up and Near sat down by him and helped him up, touching gently because he knew that if Mello was screwed up in the shoulder, he'd likely have other injuries.

"You're not hallucinating Mello. But I have no arguments on the drunk part." As it were, Near could smell the alcohol practically rising off the man.

"Yes I am, because Matt told me that you wanted me and then he left to smoke and I felt so guilty that I downed a bottle of Chocovine in ten minutes and that shit's fucking _strong_ and I'm drunk and my shoulder hurts and my back hurts and…" Mello buried his head into Near's neck and Near felt his back go rigid at the warm proximity of the blond.

"You smell the same." Near met eyes with the bleary blond.

"Thanks?" Mello nodded against Near's shoulder and buried himself in deeper.

"I miss you. Sucks that you're dead. I wanted to tell you that I didn't hate you and stuff…I mean, I thought it was obvious because I played chess with you and tried to make you over so that you could get some and you know I only tease people I like….Oh. Oh and I didn't sleep with L. That too. Didn't know you thought that." Near wrapped his arms around Mello and Mello sighed hotly against his chest and nuzzled in deeper.

"I'm gonna pass out now, alcohol inspired Near delusion. But before I do…" Near staid perfectly still as Mello's mouth gently captured his and tender lips brushed up against his gently. It was barely a kiss, the faintest shadow of one really.

It was beautiful.

And then Mello was asleep.

Near lowered the other man down onto the couch and stared at the face that still occasionally winced in pain, even as he slept. Eventually, Near brought him up to his room and laid the blond down across his bed, still covered in black satin sheets the way Near remembered and had dreamt about upon several occasions.

He stayed there until morning.

* * *

Light knew that this flight was most likely going to be an agonizing experience. Doing anything more than breathing in the same room with L usually turned into an agonizing experience, so why would the detective break the mold now?

Still, Light had to admit that he was impressed by the sumptuous luxury jet that awaited them upon departure. It was furnished sparingly, but tastefully so- all buttery leather and cashmere throw blankets with mini fridges. Oh, and dvd players…

Light's fingers twitched over the remote as he watched L out of the corner of his eyes. No response. Tentatively Light reached out and had just slid in his well-watched copy of Godzilla into the player. He'd always liked the classic, ever since childhood. There was just something to watching people run around screaming…

"Absolutely not Doctor. We are going to go over job requirements and any latent talents you may have. Now, can you still play the piano?" Light bit back his disappointed groan and tried to smile politely at his new 'boss'.

"I believe if I had the need to do so, I would be able. I can still get through the classics at a fairly high proficiency." L nodded and actually check marked something off on a clipboard that he was holding with two fingers in his left-hand.

Light idly thought that he had sold his soul to the devil to save him from a Notebook. His life was a sad one, indeed.

"Good. Instrument skills are surprisingly handy in certain undercover situations. Now, how's your singing voice?"

"…Seriously?"

A whole hour of the marathon flight passed by with Light trying to answer if he knew how to juggle, dance, speak Portuguese, or cook a crème Brule. Light was beginning to think L was making this up as he went along, and that the clipboard he kept checking off was a poor decoy.

"Ah, now we've reached field skills. You don't have any martial arts experience, so we'll have to get you some. Although I hear you're a damn good shooter…" Light snorted.

"I'm plenty good at martial arts, L. I could wipe the floor with you." L arched an eyebrow. Or at least Light guessed he did because the detective's bangs had already entered into their mid-afternoon slump and they had claimed his eyebrows ages ago.

"I'm the world's best detective, Doctor. I'm highly trained in capoeira. The only one imitating a mop would be you."

Light considered telling L that there was no chance. Capoeira, impressive though it may be, was no match for good old fashioned Japanese judo. Which Light had perfected when he'd secretly dated the captain of the men's judo team throughout college and they needed a reason to be together. There was no better excuse for being caught wrestling with another man than saying you were actually wrestling, after all.

They had eventually broken up because Light turned out to actually be amazingly good at Judo, courtesy of his physics background that led to the uncanny ability to pick out the best ways to trip up his opponents. His natural talents had led to jealousy, and things went south when Light had been approached to try out for the national team by the team's coach who had apparently been salivating over Light's abilities for the last year.

But there was no need to tell L this. Really, it was always better to show.

"Please L. I'm bigger than you are by far. And I've gotten into a few scuffles in my day. Plus, my dad taught me how to box. I could kick your ass."

L was smirking and Light felt what could be described as evil mirth bubbling up in his chest.

"Fine then, if the Doctor is so sure that he can use his manly muscles to beat me then let him suffer the consequences of his arrogance." L stood and squared off against Light, and Light realized that he was about to get into his first real fight, with the world's best detective, on a private jet to England.

Sweet.

L was still bent over, but now his weight was on the balls of his feet, ready to move and kick.

Big mistake. Everyone knows you need to stay flat on your feet to even begin to stand a chance against a judoka.

Light lunged quickly and grabbed the front of that annoying and constantly present white sweater in his right hand, wrapping L's right's sleeve in his left. He saw L's dark gray eyes widen to comical proportions before securing his grip and moving in for the throw.

Ippon Seoi Nage. It had taken all of a second.

Wasting no time as L hit the ground, Light slid on top of him, straddling his hips and grabbing the front of his shirt to twist into a choke.

"Well, I'm sure glad I learned my lesson." L was staring at him with his mouth slightly open and Light had the strange momentary urge to bend down and kiss him.

"That was….That was judo, Doctor." Light nodded sagely.

"Indeed it was Detective." L stared up at him.

"Well then. So, tell me. How are you at cooking pizza?"

* * *

Mello hit the call button again and once again was greeted by a cultured Japanese voice telling him to leave a message. The same response he had gotten five times in a row, as he had called periodically every ten minutes since waking up in his own bed. He wasn't chuffed by the fact that he didn't remember how he got there. Matt usually saved him from embarrassment by pulling his ass into bed before the kiddies woke up.

"Fuck messages." Mello barked into the phone before throwing it away violently onto his comforter. Offensive thing.

"Someone's cheery." Matt said, walking into Mello's room unannounced, while cupping a lit flame in his hand.

"Someone wants to talk to his boyfriend who's not picking up the damn phone." Matt's brown eyebrows went up comically, leaving stunned dark blue eyes stranded in his face.

"Excuse me? Come again? Did you just refer to yourself as in a relationship? Mello- the unofficial king of one-night stands and torrid love affairs the world round? You have a _reputation_ to protect; you can't just be giving all that up after some Japanese boy with pretty eyes." Mello frowned.

"I…I didn't mean boyfriend. It's the pain killers, they're making say all sorts of weird things. I just meant I need to talk to Light and he's not. Bloody. Answering." Mello punctuated his last three words with small throws of his phone, again and again until it fucking rang. What was so hard about answering a phone?

"Oh…Man you have it _bad_." Matt settled down next to Mello, and Mello shifted over so Matt could stretch out alongside him. There should probably be some awkward tension between them at the thought that they were talking about Mello's love interest in another man, while simultaneously laying in bed together, but there wasn't. They just rolled like that.

"I don't have anything…Okay yes. Yes, I have it bad, and yes I want to see him, and yes I'm going fucking nuts because I don't fall for people Matty, and I want this boy more than I know what to do with." Mello paused.

"And L's going to fucking kill me because he wants Light too, but finders keepers, ya know?" Matt just laughed.

"I'm sure Light's going to love that description. So, tell me- was it the amazing sex? His beautiful mind? Dat ass?" Mello sent a glare Matt's way and he winked back. Fucker.

"I don't even know, I've already admitted I may possibly be wild about him and you want me to what? Write out a fucking list and end it with a heart with our initials in it?" Matt looked considerate for a moment.

"Yah, that'd work." Mello bit back the temptation to shove Matt out of his bed, not for any concern for his annoying friend, but because he couldn't be bothered to exert the effort in his current state of fuck-uppedness.

"I just…I like him. I like talking to him late into the night, and kissing him, and how he's considerate to a fault, and just….He's sweet. There's genuineness to him that I haven't run across in a damn long time. And maybe it won't work out long time, but…He's my equal. You know how often that happens? Like once in a fucking thousand. I love you and L, but you two can be weird as fuck and awkward almost all of the time. He's not. It's nice."

"Gee, thanks." Matt was trying his best to look offended.

"Oh fuck off, you know what I mean." Matt took a deep inhale, and Mello thought for the umpteenth time that he should take up smoking to up his sex appeal. While he was completely neutral towards getting into Matt's pants, and Matt certainly wasn't interested in anything stuffed inside Mello's leather, the smoking thing was hot.

Too bad about the cancer bit.

"Yah, I do. Now tell him. He's on a plane on his way here, hence the no picky-uppy. Greet him with your loving voice and maybe some detailed plans on what you're going to do to him when he gets here. You know, give him that sweet that nasty that gushy stuff."

Mello pressed himself on his good arm to stare down incredulously at Matt.

"Did you just quote Jay Z lyrics at me in the context of talking to me about the one person I've ever made a genuine romantic connection with?" He received a shrug.

"Seemed relevant enough." Fair point, Mello thought as he pulled up his cellphone and re-awakened the sensitive touch screen.

"Out, fucker. I don't' want to have you sitting next to me as I profess both real emotion and talk dirty." Matt got up and straightened a navy and white striped top that Mello had bought him years ago in hopes of branching out Matt's style. It had been a small start, but he had finally convinced him to wear things other than stripes four years ago. It was one of Mello's proudest accomplishments.

"Alright, but once you're done, you need to come downstairs. We have some major shit to talk about and I'm only allowing you time alone with your phone so that it'll be one less thing on your mind, mkay? Send Light my platonic affections for his glorious ass." Matt peace signed out, turning it into a deuce at the last minute.

Honestly, sometimes Mello wondered about that man. How was it he had three women again?

Ah, yah. The smoking.

It was damn sexy, after all. And Mello could vouch for it as he was an avid follower and practitioner of damn sexy's cousin- dead sexy.

Now, to the phone.

"Light. I'm going to start this off by saying I'm really horny and have been going crazy thinking about the next time I get to be inside you. Now that I have your attention…"

* * *

L glanced over at Light who was fidgeting with the DVD player again and glancing at L guiltily every few moments.

L was planning on ignoring him for a few more minutes until he figured out the player out, _then_ he was going to tell Light to not play the movie.

L considered the fact that his idea of flirting hadn't matured past junior high level. Ah well, attention was attention wasn't it? Speaking of attentions…

"Doctor, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?" Light glanced up from the now dissembled DVD player.

"Ah… no? I mean, after I've answered you on my masturbation schedule, I can't seem to think of what could get more personal." L brushed off the comment.

"Really, Doctor, that was professional. It's important to know that you can handle your natural needs should your work ever take you to an isolated climate. Like the arctic. There are no hand jobs other than your own in the arctic. Moving on. Are you still involved with Mello?" Light seemed to be struggling with which part of L's speech to respond to, something L had noticed the man doing a lot. Honestly, he was dimwitted, so why did he seem to have so much trouble with what L said?

"I…Okay, first of all, how many times have you been to the arctic and had to..? No, no, I don't want to know. And as for Mello, your guess is as good as mine. We haven't spoken since he left the country." Light's voice was a particularly bland version of his neutral tone, which L had begun to think of as close to anger as he could get Light when speaking on personal issues. Interesting.

"3 times, actually. Bottle of lotion each. Anyways, Mello has been through a very hard surgery, I'm sure he's just been busy." L kicked himself inwardly for offering the consolation but…Light seemed to light up a little at it.

"You think? I mean…" Light leaned forward and his voice was no longer dull with suppressed rage, but instead a pleasant variation of his normal voice. L thought it was a touch sweeter with fondness. "He' just amazing, you know? I'm…I'm very much attracted to him, but I'm not stupid. He's not the relationship type. I never thought I was the relationship type." Oh ponies and cupcakes, was L becoming a confidant to Light's feelings on his romantic tryst with Mello? Great, ask and ye shall be answered.

"I'm sure he's still very much after your pants. He is not known, however, to involve himself in lengthy affairs of the heart." L wondered if he sounded sulky. He felt sulky.

"Well…thank you, then. So, what about you? Do you have a Lady L at home? A Lady Elllllllllle perhaps?" The Spanish 'L' was struggled out and L chuckled softly.

"No, I'm not attached." Light looked expectantly at L to continue.

"And that's that, Doctor." Now Light looked annoyed.

"That is not that, I shared my feelings, you have to reciprocate. _That's how friendship works, L_." L blinked in surprised at the tone Light had taken, as though friendship was a term they'd already agreed upon, and bit his thumb tensely.

"Friendship, Doctor? I was under the impression that I heavily annoyed you." Because L was purposeful in his annoyance because Light was cute when annoyed. The logic was irrefutable.

"You only do that because you like it when I'm flustered. Teasing is a basic given amongst friends, L. Besides, it's kind of funny in a way. I've never had anyone who was actually good at teasing me." Friends huh? It was a promising proposition.

"I accept your offer of friendship, Doctor. Does this mean I can call you by your given name without inspiring any dirty looks?" Light laughed and L basked momentarily in the harmonic sound.

"Sure, L. So…Wammy wouldn't tell me anything, what exactly is happening in England that we need to rush there as soon as possible?" L considered that he'd snap at employee Light to mind his business, because L was not ready to deal with any of the implications Matt's phone call had created earlier this morning. But friend Light?

"Mind your business, Light. You'll find out soon enough."

* * *

They touched down in France to a bleary afternoon of stormy clouds and wet air. Light had slipped into a trench coat in anticipation of the weather and L had politely questioned if he also had rain boots inside his carry-on. He'd gotten a glare for the comment and a perfectly articulated 'Fuck off' in English. Mello and Matt had taught the good doctor well, it seemed. From then, Light had ignored L, instead choosing to help Wammy into the driver's seat which had been modified to be usable to the man even without control of his legs. L hadn't been comfortable with the idea at first, but the man had insisted. Hell, the plane had had the same outfitting.

After sulking for a few minutes in the back of the car, Light turned to L.

"So, in all seriousness L, how is there no Mrs. L? I had this whole picture of you with maybe some tiny insomniacs running around named K and P, figuring out the endings to paperback detective novels while you awkwardly explained the sex scenes…"

L thought for a moment that he might be speechless.

"You seem to have given this a great amount of thought Light." Light shrugged and a drop of rain slid off his coat and onto L's hand.

"I was bored, and it was entertaining." There was a note of protest in his voice, as though the other man didn't want to admit to daydreaming about L's idyllic countryside family life in his spare time. No wonder, thought, L didn't want to admit to that even.

"Well, for one, there is no Mrs. L because I am not attracted in particular to women. I often find them much harder to understand then men, even with my celebrated brilliance. Aside from emotional reasons, I just find men more physically attractive. As for children….I had a hand in raising Mello and Matt, along with a few others. All I can say on that is I will never again partake in the pleasure."

It appeared to be Light's turn to be speechless. L wondered if sharing the pleasure made him a good friend.

"You're gay?" L shrugged.

"So are you." Light's turn again at loss of speech, L thought. 78% chance he would mention L's clothes whenever he regains control of his vocal capacities.

"Well…yes..but..I mean. Look at the way you dress!" L basked in his predictive abilities.

"Stereotype, Light." Light leaned against the weather-proofed leather seat and seemed to contemplate deeply for a few moments.

"So…out of the four of us, myself, yourself, and Mello are all gay? Matt's the only straight one?" Funny thing that, L thought.

"Well, Mello is technically bi-sexual. He'll fuck anything good looking, is the summation of his bedroom philosophy I believe." Light nodded.

"So…we're like…what now? The Gay Detective Agency?" L scoffed a bit.

"Yes, Light. And our slogan is "We've got your back…sides." Light chuckled and slowly it grew into a full out laugh with Light trying to contain how much noise he was making. L watched in amazement as the chiseled features were transformed beautifully with mirth.

"I don't know what's funnier, that joke, or the fact that you made it." L gave a small grin, happy to have pleased.

"Anything for you, Light." Light just squeezed L's shoulder fondly, and L thought that being friends might not be too bad. For now.

* * *

The moment they crossed into England on yet another smaller jet, Light remembered his phone and turned it on with a buzz. It immediately jumped to life and L got to listen on to snatches of Mello's voice as Light listened to his messages again and again, chuckling at all the same moments.

L felt the return of the sulk.

They finally pulled into the expanse that was Wammy's House late into the night. For non-insomniacs, L supposed it would be called early in to the morning. L had listened to his own messages where Matt had confirmed that Mello was not exactly taking Near's arrival very well now that he was lucid and not believing the other to be a chocolate wine induced hallucination.

Well bully for him, he had a beautiful Japanese lover to take the pain away. A lover who was wide awake due to sleeping on the plane against L's warnings, and was still running on Japanese time.

All L had was the fact that his youngest heir had returned and was refusing to talk about why or how he'd managed to make them all think him dead for the last few years without speaking to L first. Great, why did L always have to deal with everything? They were all technically geniuses, you would think at some point they'd begin to work it out amongst themselves.

"L, you look angry." L heaved a mock sigh.

"Not angry, Light. Just very disappointed." Light gave him a look that he knew better and wasn't to be fooled, but L ignored him. Now was not the time for an overly-invasive Doctor, unless Light was offering for L to be overly invasive back. In a physical sense, of course.

Wammy drove them up into the large garage that held all of the grown-ups favorite toys, like Mello's bike and Matt's muscle cars, and L assisted his caretaker back into his wheelchair.

They entered into the warmth and L was treated to the same feeling of peace and home that he treasured every time he returned to Wammy's. For as much as he traveled, this would forever be home.

Light helped open doors for L who was rolling the now worn-out Wammy through the labyrinthine layout that was Wammy's. Luckily for the trio, it was a short trip to the main sitting room that L had request his progenies converge in for what was sure to be a most enlightening and probably horribly awkward reunion.

The moment Light had been assured of Wammy's comfort in the room, the brunet strode over to where Mello was standing by the fire. By the look on untested determination on his face, he hadn't even noticed Near who was sitting on the floor twirling of lock of pale hair.

L watched as Mello's eyes widened and Light grabbed the blond by the shirtfront and pulled him into a deep kiss, the climatic kind that was shown off at film cinemas to audience sighs and squeals. Near's eyes had gone wide as he watched their new addition wrestle mouth to mouth with Mello.

L was going to pretend, in respect of their new friendship, that he didn't catch what Light muttered next into Mello's ear. But he was going to have to look up a few terms once he was done with Near.

"Yes, now that you two are done." L stated, hoping that he would not be privy to a second showing. After all, friendship was only so tolerant in the face of jealousy.

"Near, I believe you owe all of us an explanation."

Near nodded and stood up and Light seemed to notice him for the first time.

"Yes well…I'm alive."

"Spot on observation." Mello muttered, and L saw Light mouth 'Near?' at the blond with a wide look in his eyes.

"Mello, please do not make this anymore difficult than it needs to be. It was not my first choice to return here, but given the present circumstances, I do not believe I have much of a choice." Mello's anger, always a temperamental beast, flared up.

"I don't have to do anything you ask, you sick fuck. How could you let us think that you were fucking DEAD? Do you even know what kind of mind fuck this is? Do you understand half the pain we're all going through right now? One, because we thought you were dead and now you aren't. And two, because apparently we don't mean shit to you so you can just run off and let us think that without a goddamn worry in the world! Well fuck you and your difficulties; you have no idea what it's been like for us!" Mello was being gently held back by Light, whose hands wrapped across the other's stomach, and he moved forward to murmur gently into Mello's ear.

"I appreciate your anger. It was not an easy decision for me, I assure you, but once I made it I knew it could not be unmade unless under the most dire of threats. Unfortunately, that time is now upon us."

L moved to crouch in his favorite chair. The damask felt alternatively rough and silky beneath his bare feet.

"What do you know of it, Near?" Near opened his mouth to reply, but the door swung open with a clamoring bang and Roger entered, looking as stately as ever. L sorely wanted to ask the man who'd invited him, but he supposed Wammy must have.

Still, he had no business here when they were discussing case business. L turned in chair to tell him so when he saw Roger pull a small pistol out of his jacket pocket and slowly raise it to his own head.

L felt fear clench at his stomach and a rise of panic as the small opening of the pistol buried itself between gray hair.

"Roger what in the hell are you doing?" Wammy's voice rose next to L, and L nodded fervently, agreeing with his old caretaker.

"Roger…" Mello's voice was calm, a complete opposite of the venomous indignation he'd taken against Near. It was his therapy voice, L thought irrationally.

"Roger, lower the gun. It's alright to lower the gun. No one is going to judge you, we all want you to lower the gun." Again the hypnotic flow, and L took it on as a prayer to the order of the cosmos. Near's arrival had upset him more than he wanted to let on, he couldn't handle another scene today from a suicidal old friend.

"I have a message to deliver." Roger's voice shook slightly as he stared out beyond the gathered men into the gardens where he spent his days collecting insects to study and ignoring the children.

"My message is this- We are coming for you L. You've outlived you're usefulness, and it's time you died. Surrender yourself, and we'll spare your partners. Until we meet again."

L barely heard the gunshot, he was too busy hearing the rush of blood as it exploded out of Roger's head. He was too busy hearing the clack of the gun as it hit the wooden floor. He was too busy feeling the sticky warmth that was spreading, spreading too fast and too thin across the floor like the blood was trying to escape, wanted to escape and this had just been the opportunity it was waiting for. He could smell it, he thought, even though he knew it wasn't so, not from this distance and not with the sinus problems international flights always gave him, but still he could smell it and feel it in his stomach and taste it on his tongue and this was so wrong.

L thought he might cry tonight. When he was alone of course, and assured that everyone else was asleep and mentally sound.

But then, then he would cry.

* * *

**Author's Note**- Whoa, hold the phone and make the baby stop crying what? WHAT? Yah, bitches. I done killed Roger. Plot, thy art an evil thing. Anyways, so yes. I am SORRY about the lack of updates, I've had school and work madness for forever, and my muse ran away and came back all sunshine and happiness so I've been penning a one shot happy fluff piece instead of this monster. But look, it's done and it's being updated and yah.

So yes, this chapter was a bit short like the last one, but once again- Emotions people. I can handle only so much L angst before I start crying into my apple mint latte (try one) and garnering strange looks in the cafe.

So, questions? Hit me with them in the review. I know I'm being a little minx here and making you work for it, but hey. I'm trying to build _emotion_ here people! But seriously, tell me what you think or I just might cry by myself again. That last scene was hard for me.

Also, this chapter is dedicated to the amazing, the wonderful, the _British_ **halfpromise**. Go check out her fic _A Cure for Love_, it's amazingly awesome (and updates frequently) and we both compare our characters to French whores. Seriously, who does that? _Awesome_ people, that's who. Anyways, I adore her and she's got talent coming out of her quaint British bum, so really, go read her stuff. She literally made this chapter happen by inspiring me to greatness.

Also, go read Good Cop Bad Cop if you like my work. It had Kira! Light and Mikami! . You know you want Mikami. It's also dark, gritty, and definitely more twisted than this little diddy here. It will also be updated...soon. Maybe not tonight, but soon.

Again...Please review?

Thanks for reading my wordbombs!


	7. Of Revival

Disclaimer- I owned Death Note, I would have had both L and Light blame it on the Matsuda, and then have sex in a sunset-type island scene.

* * *

Light was the first to move. He pushed himself off of Mello and walked over to Roger's prone form quickly, eyes running over the scene with a professional veneer of detachment firmly in place over his features. L appreciated that. He didn't want to see people melt down at the moment, because then he'd melt down. Not an emotion was betrayed as Light kneeled down beside Roger, a man the doctor had never met and yet was now intimate with in the most morbid way. Light gently pressed fingers to Roger's neck, but L saw from the grimace on Light's face that the gesture was merely for absolute certainty. They could all read the writing written in blood on the walls, so to speak.

Standing up as quickly as he'd knelt down, Light began to unbutton his shirt, fingers fluttering down the smooth fabric that wasn't in the least wrinkled despite his and L's earlier scuffle on the plane. L had the vaguest ringing in the back of his mind that this was not the time for a Japanese strip tease.

Silken fabric discarded without a care, Light bent down and lifted Roger's all too still body in his arms, immediately staining himself and his undershirt with the falling crimson drops and a million other unmentionable things. L chocked back a laugh. Blood and brains and a corpse for the Adonis doctor. A DeathGod and killing notebook for the detective. Now all they needed was to give some guts to the underlings and father figure and they'd have a hell of a swinging party going!

Emphasis on the hell.

"Where?" Light's voice was flat, like a perfectly polished mirror- empty of its own meaning but able to take on any the seeker put in front of it. Or maybe L was just being overly poetic because his brain resorted to an oddly Byron-esque default setting every time he witnessed a horrific death. It got really old during serial killer cases.

"His bedroom." L muttered out dully.

"Which is?" L stood on feet that were too steady for what he had just witnessed and set off out the room and down the hallway, not bothering to walk slowly even though Light was carrying a grown man's corpse and wouldn't be able to follow as quickly. Because L needed to move, needed to feel meters of ground eaten up by his steps and needed to focus only on the sharp ice that was pooling in his veins up from the frozen wooden floor that lurked beneath his bare soles.

Damn Byron.

L threw open the door to Roger's private suite, not bothering to flick on the lights. Light followed a moment later and settled the body, oh Lollipops, the body- it was a body now wasn't it? Not a detached and moderately careless headmaster with a penchant for bug collecting and mischief?

Fuck.

Light put Roger down in the bed and straightened up, casting L a look of muted sympathy. He didn't say anything however, just squeezed L's shoulder. It was a softer squeeze, not like the friendly one he'd received after making his bum joke in the car. Light's hand traveled down L's spine, and he rubbed his warm palm in a circle once before pulling away.

"It was the Death Note." L nodded.

"I'm assuming he was the most traceable of your contacts- as he's the only one dead. Still, they mentioned that we're all essentially being held hostage for your surrender, so we can't be sure." L nodded again and glanced up at Light. Roger had been the most traceable of his contacts, he was openly employed by the Wammy orphanage- not that anyone had ever been able to trace the orphanage to L before.

Wammy's was an interesting situation. While all the inhabitants had their own true identities expunged and started anew at entrance, they all enjoyed pseudo-lives through new names besides their own codes. After all, the British government would find it extremely odd for there to be a large manor full of children living out in the countryside all willly nilly with no names. So, Wammy's forged new ones and let the children build up that person as much or little as they wanted. Some didn't bother, intending to work for L after graduation in his large organization of agents. And some won international junior science fairs and went onto PhD programs. Depended on the kid.

So openly, Roger Ruvie _was_ the headmaster of an orphanage and school for the highly gifted.

How in the hell anyone had pieced it together as being related to L was baffling. More importantly, it was terrifying. If the children were in danger…

L shook out his thoughts and turned back at Light who was waiting for him in the doorway.

They walked in silence, L lost in his own thoughts and Light seemingly occupied with the decision of whether or not to remove his now red stained undershirt.

* * *

"Who's your…friend?" Near asked, breaking the horribly awkward and cloyingly thick silence. Mello glanced sharply at him, missing the strength of his 'friend's' arms after he'd left after L.

"Light Yagami." Near looked surprised.

"As in the physicist? The Nobel-nominated physicist?" Matt and Mello exchanged a surprised look before both looking back at Near. Wammy was still staring at the spreading stain that neither of them were bothering to attend to.

"Yeah, that's the one. You know how I am… I like 'em smart." Mello muttered, flushing lightly. He hadn't expected Near to know who Light was and the fact that he did bothered him for some reason. It made him feel…guilty?

"Smart? I suppose so. Isn't he just a police scientist? I remember thinking he was a little under-qualified to have his name on some of the papers he's credited for." Near's tone was polite while he was being an ass, as always. And it got under Mello's skin in every little way. As always.

"He's fucking brilliant, thanks. And only with the police until the Tokyo U physics head retires, then he's a shoe-in as the replacement. He just didn't want to waste his time teaching undergrad physics to the uncaring masses at the moment. Besides, when's the last time you were nominated for a Nobel, Near? They don't hand them out for best faked death." Mello's voice was waspish and cruel and he hated himself for it. But dammit if Near didn't know how just to piss him off.

Near shrugged.

"I guess that makes sense, then. Good plan on his part." Oh and if that wasn't the most condescending little-

"Thanks for your approval." Light's newly minted nearly accent-free English floated into the room as did its source and Mello saw his lover was now topless and carrying tea. That explained why they had taken so long.

"Mr. Wammy?" Light kneeled down by the older man, offering him a cup of tea off the tray. "We're probably going to have to stay up even much later talking about the case. If you'd like, I can help you to bed now so you don't have to hear us run ourselves around in circles." Wammy accepted the tea and nodded and Light handed off his tray to L and began to wheel the man slowly out, offering his condolences as they went. L just started at the tray before handing it to Matt and climbing back into his chair.

"Obviously this was the work of the Death Note."

L was speaking around his thumb and staring at past them, eyes floating slowly and unseeing across the paintings on the wall. He went quiet for a few moments, a handful of heartbeats, before speaking again.

"How it came to be that any outside force knows of my connection to Wammy's house is uncertain and most troubling. The fact that they were able to pinpoint when I arrived here is even more so. However, the possibility remains that the directions written related to his death were that Roger time his forced suicide for whenever I may have arrived- I am not sure if that's possible. We'll have to ask the doctor. As it were, everyone else aside from Wammy is completely safe. Our identities are so deeply buried half of the people in this house don't know their real name. Of course Light's a bloody publicity hound, so we'll have to figure a way around that…"

They heard a slight scoff, and Mello saw Light enter again, this time with towels and liquid stain remover in his arms.

"Every time I enter this room, someone seems to be insulting me." Light's grumbled, kneeling down on the hardwood and beginning to work at the stain that had exploded over both the wood and oriental carpet.

"I only meant we need to take care of your identity before proceeding forth. If you're identified, you can be used as a threat- they can control your actions to sabotage our investigation and then…you die. Both of these things would displease myself, and I suppose you too." Light glanced up and grinned crookedly at L, before he met eyes with Mello and winked.

"Good thing Light Yagami dies in a car crash in about twenty minutes, huh?" Light's voice was casual, but it had the giddy laughter of a naughty five-year old underneath the suave tone. Mello liked it.

"…Watson, what have you been up to?" L's voice sounded intrigued and amused and friendly and only the tiniest bit forced, and in spite of all the shit that had just gone down at Wammy's-with the whole newly un-dead Near and newly dead Roger thing- Mello had to wonder. What had happened in Japan while he'd been away?

"I'm going to pretend that that's not the most obvious overture you could have possibly made to our detective and doctor relationship and just answer your question. I've arranged for my father to fake my death and it should begin in about twenty minutes. Light Yagami will be officially dead soon enough. He was horribly depressed after the dishonorable L took away his pet case and went on a drinking and driving binge. I've penned a very nasty letter defaming and decrying you to emphasize the fact that was intended to be mailed out to the press, but now serves as a framing device into my psyche before my tragic accident. Funnily enough, I'll burn the hell out of my pretty self in the crash and only be identified by my teeth." L looked like he'd been handed a gift basked full of chocolate and strawberry marshmallow bunnies.

"Oh Watson, you clever clever fiend." Light rolled his eyes and continued his work on the floor.

"Now that Light has proven he's better than all of you, we are all going to retire because I just can't handle this at the moment. Near, it's been wonderful seeing you, be prepared to explain yourself at a later hour. Goodnight." L leapt up from his crouch and was out the door before another word could pass.

They all stared at the empty door for a beat, except for Light who apparently didn't know L enough to know when he was acting extremely odd. That, or he was really intent on that floor.

"I'm…yah, I'm out too." Matt stood and left, moving around Light who was still at work on the floor. Mello heard the ping sounds of Matt's PSP echo softer as his footsteps down the hall did the same.

Mello stayed until Light seemed satisfied with the state of the floor. Ignoring Near's watchful gaze, he grabbed the doctor by the bare arm and dragged him out silently, pulling him along the path to Wammy House's kitchen where they disposed of the soaked towels.

"Hell of a night." Light muttered, and away from the others he sounded discomfited.

"That about sums it up." Mello replied, wishing he could have a stiff drink.

"Shower and bed?" Mello's eyes flicked over Light's face, marking out every tired line and the soft sag in his shoulders that hadn't appeared until L had left the room.

"Sounds good babe." Light moved as though to wrap his arms around Mello, but stopped at the sight of blood on them.

"Yah. Need that shower like _now_."

* * *

Light showered and then Mello showered and then they fell into bed with the kind of familiarity that was usually left to long time lovers.

Arms were wrapped around waists and lips sought each other out with quiet desperation. They spent ages just tasting, enjoying the warmth that came with closeness. Mello wrapped Light in tight, using his left arm to seal the doctor to his chest.

Light sighed softly as they pulled apart and gently pressed his forehead to Mello's.

"I missed you." Mello stole another soft kiss.

"Missed you too." Light smiled, buried his head in Mello's neck and fell asleep in moments.

Mello stayed awake a while longer, trying hard not to over-examine the high he was getting off of having Light back in his arms. Well, arm.

Really, it was no big deal. It wasn't like he was falling _that _hard for the man, honestly, Matt had overexaggerated. Over sold the idea.

Mello glanced down at the soft profile of Light's face, barely there in shifting shadows and slivers of moonlight streaming in through the un-curtained window.

Who the fuck was he kidding?

Pressing another kiss to a now sleeping forehead, Mello fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning was a somber one at the start. L explained immediately, without apology or undue ceremony, to the current twenty Wammy children that Roger was deceased. He also explained that Wammy, the original founder, would reclaim his mantle in Roger's stead. He then introduced himself as an associate of L's, almost as an afterthought. The children sat, stunned.

Near was not present. Nor was he mentioned.

After breakfast had been laid out and each mouth filled, Light was treated separately to twelve inquisitive looks, seven day dreaming ones, and one of pure admiration. The children had not been terribly fond of Roger, it seemed, if they could still be distracted by a stranger's presence. Mello and Matt were still remembered by the oldest students, and apparently 'Ryuuzaki' had even been spotted on campus at times. Light was the new enigma, and not even death could stand up to the attractive physicist.

"You're Light Yagami." Light stared at the teenage boy who had just made the bold proclamation dead in the eye, noting the ink smudges on the back of his left hand- a sign Light had come to recognize among his fellow physicists as that of a night spent scribbling equations.

"Nope. Twin brother, Light just died actually. _Horribly_ tragic. Name's Moon." Matt chocked on his coffee, Mello coughed into his chocolate chip muffin, and L arched an eyebrow.

"Dear me Watson, it would appear your deceased brother had a fan club." It was Light's turn to choke on his muffin as L snarked out his comment around a mouthful of shortcake.

"Terribly sad thing he's gone then. He did have quite the brain." Light paused. "I'm the prettier one though."

Mello let out a dark chuckle.

"Better in bed, too." That was said in Japanese and the grown-ups laughed long and hard, the stupid kind of laughter that came from having fun annoying children and personal jokes and the release of far too much tension in a single moment.

"So, Ryuuzaki, are you going to have them refer to me as Watson then?" L frowned and pointed his fork at Light.

"Moon, that would be insulting to your brother's memory. Now, quit being rude." Light chuckled and felt that warmth that only L seemed to be able to instill return to his stomach.

Today was certainly going to be better than yesterday.

* * *

Near was just fucking determined to ruin everyone's day, Mello decided.

They'd had a nice breakfast, even after the grim announcements. After all, none of them had known Roger that well, him being the detached and disinterested headmaster of years past and all. And even though Wammy's absence made it clear that the man wasn't alright, they were still able to push it out of mind in light of the fact that they now had a murder of one of their own on their hands, and they had no time to waste in tracking the son or sons of bitches down.

Except fucking Near still had to monologue out his life's story as they gathered again in the sitting room. Even Matt tacking a neat little '21 and up' sign they'd stolen off of the local pub as kids onto the door as they filed in couldn't raise Mello's spirits much, knowing what was to come.

"I'm going to be brief about this."

Fucker. Fucker. _Fucker._

"I exited the way I did because I needed to remove myself completely from the situation and heal. My injuries were extensive after the accident. Horrifying, actually." Near paused and frowned.

"I…I couldn't do it anymore. I apologize for that. I just didn't want it. I wanted out, and I knew how to get it. So I left. I've always had issues with confrontation and I was aware of what leaving meant. I made my choice anyways."

Mello couldn't take it. He just couldn't do sit there and listen.

"Oh go fuck yourself Near. How bloody extensive could your injuries have been if you fucking walked out on us the day after the accident while we were, you know, busy mourning you?" Near frowned at Mello and Mello sneered back. Oddly enough, it was vaguely nostalgic.

"This extensive." Near lifted up the left side of his shirt and Mello stared. Swirls of skin was a pearly sheen against the flat matte of Near's pale skin, spanning across the entire left side of his body, turning into a an almost translucent pink at the center next to his ribs. There were gash scars as well, deep ones that ran rivets up his stomach. It looked painful. Mello could just _feel_ the sympathy pain cloying in his stomach.

"Oh fuck Near…" Mello's rage slowly ebbed down. How could he stay mad at such a horribly pathetic sight?

"It would appear Mello has mellowed, please continue." L was speaking again through a mouthful of sweets, pudding this time, and Mello gave him a cold sneer. Fuck him. The man ate too damn much.

"I don't really want to get into particulars. I left because I thought the Mello and yourself were sleeping together, and that pretty much ended any chance I had at-" He broke off and frowned slightly. "Any chance I had at your title. I took my leave and set out to recover. Since that time, I've been living off the grid in Alaska." He paused and Mello frowned. Because Near hadn't left because he wanted L's title and he thought he couldn't achieve it. He'd left because he wanted Mello. And thought L already had him.

Mello felt his cheeks burn slightly.

_Awkward._

"Believe it or not, I was actually enjoying my self-induced isolation. I'd saved up enough off of working under you for a decent cottage and relatively comfortable lifestyle. We don't all blow our earnings on motorcycles." He shot Mello a glance and Mello flicked him off out of habit.

"I heard about the Death Note killings and unfortunately it also coincided with a…rumor…I'd heard. You've acquired some enemies, L."

L frowned and glanced up at Near, who was twirling a lock of hair around his finger rapidly.

"As I always have. But none of them in the past have had a killing notebook or been so prolific in their presence. Not to mention-" L stuffed an éclair in his mouth this time, and Mello rolled his eyes. The detective was even more of a black hole when it came to serious cases, they wouldn't hear a clear syllable for weeks. "they have never attacked in such a personal manner before. So please elaborate on this 'rumor'."

Light was staring at L in shock as he went through the tray of sweets and not bothering to hide it.

"I only heard the traces of it, L, but I think we're dealing with ex-Wammy's."

There was a beat of dead silence, where even the ever creaking fan in paused in its serenade, as though the atmosphere itself know when to shut the hell up.

L, for his part, stopped eating.

"Are you saying that the very children I paid to raise and educate have decided to launch an attack against my person? Even after I have offered many of them fulfilling employment?"

Near nodded once.

"Well, that will make them easier to track down then." Mello glanced at L, surprised. The detective gave no indication that he was upset, instead he'd cut into another piece of cake.

"Okay, stop. I am L's blood sugar, and I am saying enough." Light reached out and took away L's cake to a muffled protest from the detective.

"Children, out! Watson and I have to discuss his future with the company." After a lengthy pause in which the two fully grown and at odds men engaged in a staring contest, Mello followed Matt and Near out, glancing over his shoulder to where Light and L were now waging a war over the slice of cake. Then Light shoved it in his own mouth to an outraged howl of protest from L.

What on earth had happened in Japan?

* * *

"Doctor, your behavior is incorrigible. You are incorrigible." L put his finger up Light's face to emphasize his point.

Light just tossed his head back and laughed.

"And you were on your way to a heart attack. Don't stress eat, Mr. Elllllllle won't like you if you get too fat." L sank back down into his chair, pulling his knees in tight.

"Mr. Elllllle would have to exist for that to even begin to be a concern. And then one would wonder why he didn't love me for my sparkling personality and undeniable wit, and instead only for my rock hard abs." Light snickered for a few moments, before sobering.

"How worried are you?" His tone was soft, respectful. L appreciated that. He even appreciated Light stealing his cake as a diversion to get his closest heirs out of the way.

This was just too much. It was no great surprise to L that the students who passed through Wammy's House were often not the most morally of sound. As a matter of fact, the only person he had met with iron clad morals in his own IQ zone was sitting on the couch next to him. Most geniuses saw the world through varying shades of gray and didn't bother with pesky morals, usually preferring to differ to some vague Dionysian principled philosophy after a while. He supposed he should have seen it coming…

"I'm…perturbed. I don't understand the motivation beyond an ego-maniacal need for my title for anyone to act in this way. It doesn't add up. And knowing they're coming after me…Why the criminals? Was that just to throw me off the scent? Then why kill Roger? I just…" L cut off, biting his thumb.

"Don't see the big picture?" L sighed.

"No, no I don't." Light just patted his shoulder, and L caught the hand as it came down for a second time, gently turning it over in his own palm. Light let him, and L gently traced his fingers down Light's lifeline a few times before returning it to its owner.

"Awfully long for a dead man." L murmured softly. He heard a soft sigh.

"Let's hope." L glanced up and met the amber gaze that was set on him. Light's eyes were half lidded and the sun was shining down on the crown of his head, casting a warm glow over his silhouette and felt his stomach clench hard at just how badly he wanted him.

"L?" Matt's voice was muffled around a carrot stick, and L was glad to see that the brunet was at least masking his oral fixation around the kids. The smoking thing was damn sexy after all, and L didn't need the teenage hormones running amuck while Wammy was so out of it. And while Matt had such questionable morals about consent ages.

"Yes?" A package was thrown on his lap.

"This came in the post. Sent from one of your agents in Switzerland, checked out clean. Also, I have to head out of town until tomorrow night." He grinned wickedly and crunched down on the carrot. "Laura's in London, and I promised her a visit. We're going to…reconnect." He winked roguishly, and L regretted every single James Bond movie he'd ever gifted to the boy. L just nodded and waved him out tiredly. Everyone was getting some but him.

Oh and Near. Comforting thought that, he was in the solo sex club with the man who wore pajamas.

Matt turned and left and L opened up his package, frowning at the sparse contents. It was a status report on a case he'd stopped caring about months ago after solving it, but he'd left an agent on the case because it was taking forever to get through the legal system. Brief and to the point. Boring. He tossed it to Light, who deftly caught it.

"Burn that will you? I'm going to fetch more cake." Light winced slightly as the papers hit his hands, but nodded.

"Are you okay Doctor?" Light nodded and then rubbed his temples.

"While you're off in search of cake, would you grab me some aspirin? I think I caught a bit of a head cold on the plan ride." L nodded and shuffled out.

* * *

_Light touched the Death Note, and it all came back. The rushing memories poured in like molten lava, seeping and reaching around his mind until he became encased in that warm overwhelming feeling of power- glorious power. He was Kira. And he was God. He slid the paper out from his watch with a few quick pulls covertly. How funny that such a simple thing was the key to victory. A few little mind games and memory loss, and here he was sitting next to L as an almost trusted friend. _

_L would die soon, of that Light was sure.  
_

Light stared down at the paper in his hand, before carefully tearing a small bit off and tucking it under his watchband. He folded the rest until it was small and neat before tucking it into his wallet, which was now virtually useless that 'Yagami Raito' was dead, but kept out of habit's sake. He threw the package wrappings in the fire and watched them burn.

Light's memories were still burning through his mind, tearing open sealed over neural pathways, and making him nauseous as the information swarmed him all at once.

A had done his job, and done it well.

Fuck.

The door opened and L slouched in, carrying tea and aspirin and enough confectionaries to kill a diabetic thrice over. The detective cocked his head at Light's presumably pale pallor before speaking softly.

"You don't look good Doctor. Maybe you should rest." Light nodded demurely and accepted his aspirin and tea.

"I think I'll take you up on that, thanks L." Light let his hand linger for just a moment too long on L's shoulder as he walked out, fingers trailing slightly down L's arm before he pulled away.

L raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Have a good rest Watson." Light nodded and headed out in a daze.

Moments later, after braving the hallways that were thankfully free, he crawled into Mello's still disheveled bed, head still swarming around one thought.

He needed to get L's Death Note.

* * *

**Author's Note**- Anddddddddd on that note, I'm just going to drop off the face of the planet for a while. Cliff hanger? ME?

I'm cackling over here guys. Just flat out cackling. First, I got sick over this chapter, and now I'm cackling. PLOT PEOPLE ITS ALL ABOUT THE PLOT.

There are _so_ many little shout outs to **halfpromise **in this chapter, it's not even funny. Tell me if you can spot them all hun, I tried to be subtle. Not.

I'm also sending massive hugs to all of my reviewers, but super specifically to **BlacAngel, reeri, Risiblee **and** Dark Miko.** They've been in this horrible little game of mine for a while, and the dedication and muchos love they show me means so much more than I can say. Thanks babes, you all get a virtual bottle of Chocovine.

So yes, I'm going to be needy and beg you for reviews, because we've just hit it people. Before this, it's all been cake. Oh yah, you thought I'd forgotten about the parallels huh? NOPE. They return with gloryyyyyyyyyyyyy!

Oh yah, and if you want like, moarrrrrrrr word bombs, go check out my other fics. They're fun too. And come in different flavors such as- drama, gangsta and love.

Thanks for reading! Kisses!


	8. Of Intrigue

Disclaimer- I don't own it, but I DO own a 2 L (TWO WHOLE LITERS!) of Diet Coke, and right now I think they're making me about as happy. Oh, yes and the obligatory mention of men rubbing their genitals on other men. We all happy? Excellent. On to the fic.

* * *

"We have a problem." Light said, settling down next to L on the 'headquarters' couch as L surfed through news websites laptop on his with a practiced clicking finger.

"Well then, we should notify Houston." L muttered, biting his thumb distractedly as he speed read through another article extolling the benefits of the murdering psychopath that may or may not be a group of his former beneficiaries. It was an excellent way to start the morning.

"I'm sorry?" Light looked politely confused, which L had recently taken to mean that he was really feeling politely disdainful with a soupçon of irritation.

"If we have a problem, I'm sure Houston would love to hear about it. It's what they do over there you know." Light's brow wrinkled and he glanced at Matt, who was now laughing into a half-eaten muffin that he'd brought back in a large basket from his past two nights spent with one of his lovers.

"He's talking about the quote, or actually misquote, 'Houston, we have a problem'. You know. Apollo 13. Tom Hanks. Kevin Bacon. Moons and shit." Light continued to look baffled and Matt shrugged, clearly giving up on the whole conversation.

"Have some coffee, Light." L said, leaning forward to push the fresh pot he'd made only minutes before in a fit of domesticity. Wammy's continued retreat into his room was pushing L to new heights and skills- among them coffee making and cake ordering.

"Thanks." Light said, rolling his eyes and taking a cup. "Now as I was saying, we have a problem. Who are we going to get to present the Death Note to the international community if I'm dead? I honestly forgot I was supposed to be doing that, I got so caught up in L telling me to 'expunge my existence from the known world'."

The clock on the wall kept time with chiding ticks as each of the men pondered the question. L hadn't even considered that he had wanted Light to present the notebook since their arrival in England, and now he was wondering if that was even a viable measure of thought. Of course, taking away whoever the owner of the other Death Note's divine power of illusion was a tempting thought. Instead of looking like a celestial presence, L could humanize his opponent to the world and stop articles like the ones he'd been flicking through. It had been his initial plan, a virtual fire to smoke out the bastard.

However…

The Death Note was scary enough as is. Odds are, even if they chose to go public with it, the story wouldn't' be believed by many and L had no desire to enact a live demonstration.

"Under the current circumstances, I think it's best if we abandoned our plan to reveal the Death Note. If at the conclusion of this case you still desire for your Nobel, then we may reconsider." Light looked appropriately put out and L inwardly docked himself about ten friendship points for 'poor showing in furthering of Nobel prize winning ambitions'.

"Well, it's not like I could collect on it anyways. I'm dead. Speaking of magical killer school supplies, L may I see the Death Note?" L nodded and pulled it out from his laptop case, tossing it over to Light who caught it easily and began running his fingers over it. That was a comforting sight. The man had slowly been growing more and more comfortable with the Death Note, even referring to it by its proper title since two days ago. L was glad to see it, able to move on from his fear of Light backing away from the investigation out of some misplaced fear in his own darker desires. After all, if there was one man on the Earth that L would trust not to malevolently use the Death note, it was Light Yagami.

"I'm going to take this and go play twenty questions with Ryuk. Is that okay?" L nodded and Matt leaned awkwardly out of his chair to hand him a muffin as he walked out. Light paused to pull off the top before throwing the bottom at L with a bit more force than was necessarily friendly. Someone was obviously pissy over their lost Nobel.

"Thanks. I'll have you know _bottoms_ are my favorite!" L called out after the other man, who paused right outside the doorway. L waited for him to take the bait, but the doctor started moving again and L felt put out that such a beautiful innuendo had gone to waste.

"We have such grown up conversations." Matt said, biting into another muffin. L nodded in agreement.

* * *

Mello slunk into the hallway wondering if living in England meant he got to have Seasonal Affective Disorder year round as the weather never changed. He was just not feeling up to code these days. It might have genuinely been the weather, or maybe it was Light's recent moodiness, or perhaps even the fact that every time he laid down to sleep he dreamt of white curls and haunting eyes- but whatever the cause, Mello was sick of the symptoms. His shoulder still ached much too fiercely for him to be dealing with any sort of emotional drama, much less the high-handed variety of it that was served up alongside the porridge at Wammy's.

He continued to slink, enjoying the tea at his pity party when Near came out of the swinging kitchen door, mouth wrapped around a piece of bacon. He blinked up at Mello and then held out the other piece wrapped in a paper towel in his hand.

Mello took it tentatively.

They hadn't talked in since Near's public breakdown of his faked death and Mello's consequent reluctant acceptance. There had been brushes in the hallway, avoided glances as Mello hid behind Light at shared meals eaten in the makeshift headquarters, but no actual verbal exchange. It was a testament to their long history that they could go so long without speaking while living under the same wooden beams and shingles and have it seem perfectly normal, if not a bit dysfunctional.

"I made chocolate crepes." Mello bit his lip and his stomach growled and tried to leap up his throat to better ingest the amazing cocoa smell that was wafting out of the kitchen and tickling against his nose. There was a pause and they both shuffled around, avoiding matching eyes.

"…Go on, make us a plate then." Near smiled, small but obviously relieved that no matter the case, Mello's chocolate proclivity could not be beat and would forever remain the back door into the VIP section of his good graces.

They sat and ate and Mello almost purred with contentment at the thin crepes that had just the right amount of cocoa and strawberry and cream cheese stuffing. Near watched, having made himself a smaller plate with actual proper breakfast food on it alongside the crepes, but Mello had no such needs since he just stole his eggs and sausage from Near. It was bittersweet and familiar and Mello recalled that all of his fondest memories with Near were of the two of them much like this, settled around a table eating food that either a kind hearted Near or Wammy had prepared for L and Mello in light of their absolutely compelling lack of household skills.

"Damn good." Mello said after a while and he received a small snort.

"Not much to do in Alaska but cook, fish, and watch lots of Discovery TV- so you get really good at all of them. Also, I think I genuinely believe in alien abductions now, I must have watched at least fifty specials on them." Mello grinned and leaned forward to gently brush powdered sugar away from the corner of Near's mouth.

"So if I arrange for you to be jumped by some guys in some wickedly awesome makeup and creepy futuristic jumpsuits to stick things up your ass, you'll just roll with the aliens thing?" Near let out a small laugh, low and breathy the way he always did- as though unwilling to admit he was actually laughing, but physically needed to anyway. His laugh had always given Mello an odd sense of pride because he was the only person he'd ever heard cause it. Near's laugh was for Mello, and Mello had always liked that.

"I think even if genuine aliens came down, I would still give you the credit for their remarkable providence in choosing me." Mello laughed at that and Near smirked slightly and Mello caught himself wondering why they had never happened. They fit too well together, even after years apart, the way he and Matt did only it wasn't exactly friendship between them, was it? Near's glances were not platonic and the warning going off in the back of Mello's head that seemed to be taking on the form of a well-toned Japanese judoka cum super scientist were certainly not there because he was feeling only the warmth of friendship and crepes in his stomach.

He could have fallen so easily for Near.

He still could.

Light's voice in the hallway caught them both off guard, but they quickly realized that the annoyed and slightly waspish tone wasn't directed at them and the almost flirting that was happening.

"Fucking piece of shit Shinigami, if I wanted you to opine on my decisions I would fucking ask-" Light paused in the doorway with Ryuk at his shoulder and stared at the scene before himself blankly. Mello thought he registered a slight ripple of a sneer at their chocolate breakfast- the man was absolutely rigid on when and when not sweets should be eaten- but his face was smooth and pristine when he met Mello's eyes.

"Love, you are going to get so fat eating that. And then you're not going to fit on our bed." It was a beautifully crafted statement that flawlessly merged possessiveness with a slight insult to Near and Mello arched an eyebrow at it. It wasn't particularly like Light to get snippy, but perhaps he was suffering from the weather as well. It would make sense, the other man was used to humid temperatures and bright city lights. The countryside special- a mixture of fog rolling against tall grasses alongside a heaping serving of permanent chill must be unpleasant to adjust to.

"My abs are still impeccable, I'll have you know. I'm used to eating much worse under L's employ." Light had to concede the point with a slight shrug and he leaned in to peck Mello on the cheek while Near glanced away and began to nonchalantly twirl a rogue lock of hair on his finger. Mello breathed in deeply the smell of Light, a heady brew of apples, coffee and paper that never failed to enchant. "You smell good." He murmured, turning and kissing Light on the lips.

"And you are perpetually horny. Where are the extra apples? Mr. Twitches is getting bitchy." Ryuk laughed at that and even Mello snorted while Near adopted the patient look of the lone sane man in an asylum. They were nicknaming the God of Death then?

"They're stashed away in the fruit bin, bottom of the second refrigerator." Light rubbed his fingers slowly down Mello's back before moving and Mello shivered slightly under them.

"Here, eat." Light said, tossing the bright fruit he'd pulled from the intimidating depths of their industrial fridge at Ryuk and Mello quirked his head at the picture the two made. Ever since Ryuk had shown up in England after a mysterious disappearance that so far none of them were privy to details of, the pair had become attached at the hip despite Ryuk's insistence that he was L's Shinigami. Mello supposed it was only natural, the Shinigami had been haunting Light for six months prior to L's arrival and Light was very pretty to look on for hours at a time. Still…

He didn't like Death following his boyfriend around like a puppy.

"Hey babe, when you're done feeding the Shinigami, do you want to go for a ride? I need to get out of the house before L finds me and makes me do more spreadsheets." Light glanced up from making faces at Ryuk, looking surprised.

"Sure. But you're not driving. And we're only going for half an hour. We are in the middle of a very serious investigation. Even if it's stalled we need to maintain our focus-" Mello held up a hand.

"I get it. Half an hour. Just through the countryside. You drive, I suck you off. We're all happy."

Light looked stumped while Near moved to leave the room. Mello glanced at him out the corner of his eye and tried not to feel guilty, but…Light was his lover. And he didn't want that to end yet, no matter how yummy or chocolaty the crepes on the other side may be.

"Well in that case, make it an hour."

* * *

Light handled Matt's '56 Chevy easily, and they leisurely drove through miles of backwards country roads with colorful leaves falling down around them as the morning skies warmed up enough to let a few strategic rays of sunshine float down the gauzy clouds.

Light parked on a strategic side road that left them enveloped in trees and each other and Mello pulled him into a hot kiss, enjoying their simple rapport of touches and lips.

"Backseat?" Light asked as he gently kissed below Mello's ear. Mello nodded and they rearranged with a few laughs and mutual looks of horror at the fact they, as grown men, were moving around so they could lay down in the backseat of their friend's car and make out.

"I feel like a naughty teenager." Light whispered into Mello's ear as Mello lay down on top of him and they began kissing again.

"Is it the skipping work, the necking, the car, or the fact that I'm about to mess you up so that badly that you'll have to change pants before you'll agree to be seen in public?" Light pretended to contemplate his options and Mello kissed him on the nose.

"I'm going to go with the pants, but side note- won't Matt be just a tad upset that we're fucking in his car?"

They met eyes and Mello arched an eyebrow.

"Do we care?" Light laughed, and then Mello laughed, and then there were no more words.

* * *

L gave a flat look as Mello and Light slipped in to headquarters as lunch was being served, both looking rosy cheeked and far too happy. Young love was sickening thing to be witness to if you weren't partaking.

"Watson, Mello- nice of you to finally get your lazy asses around to joining us." Light had the common decency to feign looking chastised, Mello just flipped him off.

"Honestly L, it's not like either of us are much help though." Light said, unwrapping himself from Mello's hands and moving towards L's side. "I do science, not investigation. I'm really not sure how to help you track down whoever's using the Death Note and no matter how many ways I recreate the apple- pie, cake, or martini- Ryuk won't tell me anything. And Mello's…" They both looked over to where Mello was now struggling to open up a can of Coke one handedly.

"An immeasurable idiot?" L asked in low tones and Light snorted.

"I was going to say a bit laid up at the moment. Are you feeling alright? You've been a bit down ever since we hit England." L considered the thought. It could be due to the fact that in Japan, after Mello and Matt had made themselves scarce, Light had been all his. And it had been wonderful. L missed it terribly. Or it could be that ever since arriving in England, L had not only lost any alone time with the man that was rapidly consuming any spare thoughts, but had been slapped in the face by the case time and time again.

"Anyways, whether I'm feeling down or not has nothing to do with the fact that you're going to have put aside your prissy preference for science, rolls those well-pressed sleeves up and work on the case. I just don't have the resources for you not to be." Light nodded sympathetically.

"Well, before Mello jumped me for…a late breakfast, I did get to do some work with Ryuk. I'm thinking I might be able to convince him to reveal a bit about the current owner." Light glanced at the rest of the team, Mello who was now lounging over Matt's shoulder as he typed and pointing things out with his good hand, and Near- now consumed with a large map that was slowly being pinned with color coordinated tacks to mark where the death toll was highest.

"He went to see him. That's why he was gone." L gently tugged at Light's sleeve and Light followed him obediently out into the hallway where they slid into an empty classroom.

"Ryuk was able to track down the other Death Note owner?" Light nodded, looking a bit perturbed.

"Apparently he was able to sense the other Shinigami, I'm wondering if there isn't some connection via the plane that they operate on. Theoretically, I might be able to create some sort of equation that might lead us to being able to trace the other Shinigami down. Either way though, he's not talking." L nodded thoughtfully and Light smiled at him.

"We're going to bust the son of a bitch, L. I know I didn't know him at all, but I'm not taking Roger's death or the threat against you lying down. I don't let my friends suffer." L smiled and glanced up at Light.

"Of course not, Dr. I trust you above all things to be reliable. You might be flighty and love struck, but you're still reliable." Light chuckled.

"You are horrible at compliments, do you know that?" L wrinkled his nose and Light made that face that he always did, the one he quirked his mouth to the side and managed to look thoughtful, silly, and absolutely kissable all at the same time.

"Screw off Watson." Light looked affronted and began to dialogue about feelings in the workplace when Near poked his head in.

"L? We have a situation."

* * *

Light stretched out against cool sheets while Ryuk did handstands in the corner of Mello's room in a bid for apples. Or a Shinigami interpretive dance, Light wasn't sure he wanted to know which- it was more amusing to his tired mind to pretend Ryuk was summoning rain from the Great Beyond. It had been a hell of a couple of days. Beyond Birthday's surprise escape from prison had L pissing himself in a corner over the growing amount of evidence that his underlings were rising up against him. After all- how else would the insane doppelganger have escaped, but with the help of ex- Wammy's? And the writings left in the blood of the slaughtered guards that had made for sensationalist pickings on the evening BBC newsreel all made it seem as though the boogey man had been let out to come after L with a vengeance only obsession could breed when met with true hatred. The whole scenario had L pulling away from his various field agents left and right and slowly pulling himself into a tiny, confined hole of Near, Matt, Mello and of course the good doctor that was so reliable.

It was making Light's job too easy, actually.

He sighed and wriggled deeper into the sheets, the smell of Mello meeting his deep breaths into the pillows.

"He looks like A, that boy you're having sex with." Light flopped his head back onto Mello's pillow.

"I've noticed, funnily enough." Ryuk gave him that look, the one where his grin shrunk a bit and he hooded his eyes so that he didn't quite look like the caricature of immortality and eternal power that he was.

"No need to get so defensive, Light. It's not like I'm going to tell A you're shacking up with someone who looks like him. Even if it might be interesting to watch his reaction." Light sat up and glared at Ryuk.

"First of all, I'm not sleeping with Mello because he looks like A, so stop implying such. If you hadn't noticed, I didn't have my memories of A when I met Mello. Second of all, you're not going to tell A anything because you're not to visit him again. You're my Shinigami, or rather L's, and you're going to have to start to act like it." Ryuk chuckled and loomed in close to Light.

"Don't worry, I'll play by the rules." That was a dangerous promise if there ever was one and Light frowned and buried himself in the covers, wondering why he'd ever gotten involved in this stupid game from the start.

"Anyways Ryuk, you were wondering about the page I took from the Death Note two mornings ago. Here it is." Light pulled the folded up sheet he had carefully separated with a stolen Biology classroom scalpel and passed it over to the Shinigami. 'Beyond Birthday' was scrawled in the top, over a long list of instructions and names of guards that ran the entire page- turning the translucent sheet almost completely black.

"Impressive. I haven't even seen A use the Death Note quite this extensively. I don't think it's ever been done actually. Looks like L's going to have a hell of a two weeks." Light shrugged, taking the sheet back and carefully re-hiding it amongst his clothing. It was an obvious place, yes, but it was also the last place anyone wishing to maintain their hands would touch- even Mello didn't go near Light's designated drawers.

"That's my job, isn't it? Distract L? Keep him busy while A tries to take over the world?" The Shinigami feigned thoughtfulness.

"I think you're forgetting a part. A wanted you to kill him." Light shrugged.

"A can deal with it. He isn't exactly living up to his end of the deal either." Ryuk hawed and Light rolled over, wondering where Mello was. It was late and L had dismissed them all over an hour ago. Light had expected him to be in bed by now, preferably keeping Light warm.

"I'm going to bed now, Ryuk. You might as well go keep L company." The Shinigami gave Light a last menacing chuckle, and disappeared through the wall.

* * *

L sat and typed quickly, shutting down operation after operation. Agents were sent out of whatever they were doing and back into hiding as he pulled out of every non- Death Note related case he had currently running. Near had been right, there were ex-Wammy's involved. The worst part was, he didn't have so much as a litmus test to decide which ones might be behind the noose that was slowly tightening around his neck.

He had no way to tell, no where to look, not such much as a whisper of who was fucking so magnificently with him. It was annoying beyond belief for a man that was so used to seeing more than anyone else could, to now be so blind to the machinations of his own trained agents.

Ryuk spilled into the room from the walls, chuckling to himself. The creature did that a lot.

"Been with Light again?" L asked, glancing up at him.

"Maybe. He's pretty, I told you that." Yes, yes the creature certainly had. If L didn't already have Mello to be properly jealous of, he'd start to go after Ryuk.

"L?" Near stood at the doorway, the only member of his team who was still awake and working. Light had actually settled in these past few days since Beyond's escape and Roger's funeral and had actually become a huge help despite his rookie investigator status, but he was useless without sleep. Mello had begun to get some of his own swagger back as he slowly regained use of his arm, but he was L's personal field agent, the absolute best at going in and shooting people under L's name and had no place at this stage in the game. He was also a wonderfully proficient profiler, which was the real reason L kept him on such a tight retainer, but they had no one to profile yet so the blond had wandered off with a bottle of wine and ill intentions towards his boyfriend's sleeping form about an hour ago. Matt would actually be useful at the moment, but he'd begged off for an hour of 'alone time' with his computer to cyber chat up on of his girlfriends in Texas. L had let him, and warned him not to come back unless he'd showered. Matt had high fived him, L had winced at the hand to hand contact given the context, and the brunet had left.

"Yes Near?' Near moved in and watched L work from a crouch for a few moments before sitting cross legged down on the floor in front of him.

Near was staring down at L's feet and l watched him, not wanting to disturb what puzzle pieces might be falling into place as they both sat in silence.

"I found a few suspicious heart attack deaths around two years ago that occurred in Stockholm during the Nobel Prize ceremony. They were all physicists and I remembered reading about it in the newspaper this morning over breakfast, so I went looking. Two out of the three that died had no family history or physical predisposition to heart attacks, and they all occurred at weird time frames. Not to mention the three were members of the team that…" Near trailed off and L's mind whirled. He remembered the deaths from the news, there had been questions about foul play or even the heart attacks being related to the LHC work the men were being awarded for.

"They were all on the team that beat out Dr. Yagami's research on quantum mechanical phenomena at the edges of black holes as they related to multiple universe theory." Near nodded.

"It would be six months after that then, that they person arrested for Death Note usage in Japan actually gained his own Death Note, yes?" Near nodded again and L felt him stomach clench up.

"Let's keep this to ourselves for the moment. There's no need to draw any unnecessary conclusions. Nevertheless, good work."

Too good of work, if it was true.

* * *

**Author's Note**- Short update, I know, but at least it's an update. Tale is acting weird these days and being all uncooperative while Russia and Cop are just being _dolls_ and are so easy to write. I dunno, I dunno. I _love _some of the scenes in this chapter, but then growl at others. It's a weird game because I know what's happening, but y'all aren't meant to just yet. So I'm like, can I say that? Is it okay to say that? What will they think? Will they know? DO THEY KNOW? And then I get all panicked.

Oh well, I still like the man love. Obviously some relationships are winding up and others are winding down. It's coming you guys, and I'm so happy for it. Also, Near is also being a bit of a pain in my ass, just because I'm so used to writing him when he's not under L's thumb. It's a weird transition.

Of course, this chapter is dedicated to **halfpromise**, who got me through this update by making my laffffff until my sides hurt while I was writing it.

Lastly, it's only Wednesday! (For 6 more minutes!), so hopefully I can update a bit more before my vacation time is up. Fair warning though, I have updated all of my fics this week and therefore feel no guilt whatsoever if I leave all of you hanging for the next two weeks. Sorry dolls, school and life are hard. But I wouldn't actually do that because I love to write.

Cheers! Enjoy St. Patty's tomorrow! I, for one, will be on the open road so let's hope I don't dieeeeeeeeeeeeeee in a drunken car accident. ...Actually, thanks self, for just putting that thought into my head. Oh my.

So yes, you better review now lest I be dead by Friday. Love y'all!


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